Red Collar
by Heart Torn Out
Summary: Kate's daughter comes around looking for mommy and only finds Neal.What happens when someone's out to kill the poor girl and Neal feels like he needs to protect her with his own life?What happens when Peter starts questioning where her dad is? Prologue!
1. Cross My Heart And Hope to Die

**So. i am obbsessed with White Collar. And i am proud of it. Let's get this show on the road. I think I've used up all my character captives, so let's recycle.**

**Me: hallo Cara.**

**Cara: I like this one. Shooting. Death. Blood. *crazy face***

**Me: You and me both Cara. *to you guys* I think she's gonna cooperate better on this one.**

**Cara: *nodnodnods***

**DIscLAimER: Ok. I don't own White Collar. But i do want a piece of Neal Cafffrey. Or all of him. All of him sounds good...**

**ONWARD!**

**Cara: STOP saying that!**

**Me: but it-it's my thing!**

**Cara: I hate your thing!**

**Me: *gigglegiggle* That's what she said.**

**Cara: O.o Who is she?**

**Me: mind.**

* * *

_He stretched. Already he knew it was going to be an interesting day. Rolling out of bed, he peeked into her room and smiled. She was sprawled on the bed, her sheets everywhere, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open, drool dripping down her chin._

_He smiled again._

_She was perfect._

_Just perfect._

_He padded down the hall, making sure not to wake her, knowing there was already one person up in the house and tried not to show his annoyance as he heard the blender going._

_If he woke her up…_

_He shook his head. the poor girl needed her sleep. He was going to kill him._

_Making his way to the kitchen he stopped as he saw his friend making a power drink, blending all sorts of disgusting things into the blender and licking his lips in eager anticipation._

_He rolled his eyes._

_"Hey, cool it with the blender, will you?"_

_His friend turned around, startled. "Don't do that. And anyway, why? The princess still getting her beauty rest?"_

_He smiled at the memory of her. "She is."_

_His friend snorted. "Fat lot of good that'll do her."_

_He walked over and smacked him upside the head. "Hey, no dissing her while I'm around You got that?"_

_His friend laughed. "Overprotective, are we?"_

_He laughed now. "I'm supposed to be, remember?"_

_And he did._

_Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The two men in the kitchen looked at each other, confused. "Expecting anyone?" his friend asked him._

_"I was about to ask you the same thing," he responded._

_He nodded to his friend and they moved out of the kitchen and into the outer room, where the door was. They snuck around and then he quickly ran and unlocked the door. He went back to his place by his friend and together they waited._

_The door swung open as it was kicked in. the person in front of them was the last person they expected to see. She wasn't even supposed to be in the country. "What are you-"_

_He was cut off by her._

_Holding a gun._

_"Where is it?" she asked._

_He looked at his friend, both hands up and nodded for him to do the same. "What are you talking about?" he asked as his friend grudgingly complied._

_She cocked the gun, switching the safety off. He swallowed. "Don't play stupid with me. Where is the music box?"_

_He swallowed. So that was what this was all about? "Put the gun down. Let's talk this out. There's no need-"_

_"Shut up!" she exclaimed. "You're not going to smooth talk your way out of this one, so just shut up and tell me where it is!" She was angry, that much he could see, and willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted._

_"I don't know. I don't have it," he responded calmly._

_She put a bullet through the ceiling, plaster raining down on them. "Don't bullshit me. Don't. I know you have it." She grinded her teeth. "Where is it?"_

_Before he could speak, a figure walked into the room. It was a young girl, sixteen maybe, stretching just as the he had done less than five minutes ago. She yawned, mouth open and wiped the drool from her chin, unawares to what was going on. She had been the girl sleeping._

_When she opened her brilliant blue eyes though, she was greeted by the scene and took a step back toward the windows. "Hell's belles, what's going-" She was cut off by the gun making its way to her. Swallowing she looked to him and said, "Friend of yours?"_

_He resisted the urge to laugh, seeing her so calm with a gun to her face. "Used to be."_

_She sniffed in the woman with the gun's direction. "Well, I don't approve. Glad you stopped seeing her."_

_He nodded, eyes glue to the gun that was trained on her. He felt his heart in his throat. He hoped she would watch her mouth. He couldn't stand it if she-if she was…_

_Gunned down._

_He turned back to the woman, his friend making his way away from them in the background slowly, trying to get to the phone without her noticing."Point the gun away from her. She has nothing to do with this."_

_But the woman ignored him. "Who is she?" She sounded confused. "I've-I've seen her before. Where have I seen you before?"_

_The girl swallowed, realizing that this was becoming an issue. "Never seen you before, so… wrong person?"_

_But the woman was calculating, nodding to herself, glancing at the man beside her. "You look like…" She turned to him and he winced. Wrong move on his part. She aimed the gun at the girl's chest. The little thing didn't even bat an eyelash to her dismay. "Get me the music box, or she dies."_

_To both the man and woman's surprise, the girl burst out laughing. She laughed until she had tears coming down her face, laughed until she had to brace herself on her knees. She finally straightened, the adults looking at her as if she was crazy._

_"I'm sorry," she said, wiping tears of laughter away, giggles bubbling up from her mouth. "But that was hilarious. I'm writing you off as a cliché. You mind?"_

_The woman looked at the man. "Oh. My. God." She cocked the gun again. And then she shot at the girl, missing her by inches, the bullet hitting the glass. He screamed out, relief flooding him when he saw the glass break instead of the girl. The woman looked to the white faced girl and then to him. "Give it to me." She glanced at her handiwork and the said, "Or the next one goes between her eyes."_

_"I doubt you're that good of a shot," the girl said and the woman's eyes returned to her. The only problem was that, the girl was so serious, no ghost of a smile on her face, no taunt in her eyes. She was being serious, as if she knew the woman on a personal basis._

_"Shut up," she hissed._

_By this time, his friend was almost to the phone, having flinched when the window was shot at. He was almost there…_

_"Why are you doing this?" he asked, trying to give him some more time, but his eyes on the girl across the room._

_The woman didn't laugh, didn't smile, but was plain serious. "You know why. I need that music box."_

_"But you gave me the missing piece-"_

_"So you could hold onto it for me for when I came back with the rest of it. Did you believe I would actually give it to you?" She laughed now, and something about the way she did it, set the girl's skin with goose bumps._

_"It was you," she said, anger, hurt and sadness in her voice. She looked to him. "Don't you see? It was her. She's the one who told them where she was. She's the one." The girl's gaze went back to the woman with the gun whose face was turning an angry red._

_"You filthy little-"_

_"You betrayed your best friend? Watched her burn? Watched her die?" the girl was on the verge of tears. "I can't belive-"_

_Suddenly the woman had the gun level to the girl's chest and had her finger on the trigger. He saw it in slow-motion, her finger pressing down, the bullet about to fly out. "NO!" he yelled._

_He made to stop the woman form shooting, but she had turned to him, the bullet flying out and burying itself in his chest. He was aware of the screams coming from the girl, the yells coming from his friend, the look of horror on the woman's face as she ran out of the room, out into the hallway and away. He felt the heat of pain sear up his chest as he hit the floor with a bang. He felt the warm blood pool around him, soaking in his shirt._

_She was by his side in minutes, her heart beating so fast she was afraid it would burst from her chest. He was on the floor, blood everywhere. "NO!" she screamed, "NO!". Her knees were in the puddle of blood surrounding him, her pajama bottoms stained red, as well as her fingers that were gliding over his chest, her eyes looking despairingly at the blossom of blood on his chest._

_"No," she kept muttering, as if that would make a difference, "No."_

_His friend had the phone in his hand, unable to move he was in so much shock. She got up for a brief moment, tears stinging the backs of her eyes, and snatched it from him. She punched in the number she had been made to memorize and waited impatiently as it rang, her heart clenching as the seconds ticked by and his eyes closed._

_Finally, the phone was picked up. "Peter Burke spea-"_

_"HELP!" she screamed into the phone. "Help, please help!" She was in a panic, that much he could tell._

_"What? What's wrong? Are you guys alright? What's-"_

_"He's been shot," she said bursting into tears and making his heart hurt more than the bullet that had permanently wedged itself in his chest. His friend could only stare. Just stare as the horrible truth dawned on him._

_Peter's voice was tense. "Who'd been shot? What are you-?"_

_"Neal," she sobbed. "Oh God, Peter. Neal's been shot."_

* * *

**One Year Earlier…**

Neal got up. He was going to be late if he didn't get a move on. And Peter hated it when he was late.

He sighed to himself, as he pulled on a suit, tying his tie at his throat and running a hand over his face to check his beard. He could wait to shave. The thought that ran through his head though, was this: since when did he care what Peter though?

Since forever, he admitted grudgingly to himself. Since…

He pushed thoughts of Kate out of his mind. It was a good morning. He wasn't going to ruin it.

Making his way to the outer room, Neal smiled. "Hey Moz," he said as he went for the door.

"Good morning Neal. How was your sleep?"

Neal slowed. "Fine… And you?" Before Mozzie could utter a word, Neal cut in with, "Wait, why do you care how I slept?"

He smiled. "I don't."

Neal sighed. "Look Moz, I gotta get going. Do you need anything?"

His squat friend sighed. "No. Go, go. Go be with your government suits."

Neal smiled and walked out the front door, a smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day.

How could he know how wrong he was?

Neal walked in, smiling, and immediately saw Dianna. "Hey!" he said as she waved him over. "Where's Peter?"

She rolled her eyes. "Off getting coffee, probably wondering why it tastes like sludge."

He gave a bark of a laugh and then said, "And Jones?"

This time, Diana had a look of confusion on her face. "I don't know. He got called down for something earlier this morning and said he'd be back in ten, but, he's been gone for almost an hour now." She frowned. "Now that I think of it, Peter's been gone for more than an hour too. You think something's wrong?"

Neil shrugged. "Probably someone giving them a little bit of trouble. Nothing they can't handle."

"You're right on the first, not on the second." Neal turned around to find Peter standing there with a grim smile on his face. "And you're late."

Neal rolled his eyes. "Yeah well…" He shook his head. "What's going on down there?"

And then, something crossed Peter's face that made Neal feel uneasy. And he never felt uneasy, especially around Peter. "What? What is it?" Peter's eyes flicked to Diana and she left to go see to other matters. This unnerved Neal even more. "Peter…" he said again.

"Come with me Neal."

Neal followed Peter, silent for the first time in a long time. What was going on?

They made their way to the first floor, where a commotion could be heard. Peter walked a bit faster, Neal keeping pace and when they reached the front office, he blanched.

There, in the midst of several officers, Jones included, was a young girl of about sixteen. She had stark, raven hair and arresting blue eyes and seemed familiar in more ways than one to Neal.

"Who is she?" he asked Burke. "And why is she making a scene?"

Peter shook his head. "Wouldn't I like to know. Come on."

They made their way over, pushing men aside until they got to the girl. She had this defiant, yet devious look in her eyes and Neal was suddenly arrested by a sudden surge of nostalgia.

She reminded him of…

"Kate," he whispered.

Peter looked over to him. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go meet her."

Peter looked at him, then at the girl in front of him who was arguing with the woman at the front desk. "… want to see him. Now! I don't care if you think I'm too young. I don't care if I don't have a fucking appointment!"

Neal winced at her usage of language. The girl seemed angry, but he couldn't begin to fathom why. She turned then, as the secretary went quiet and the scowl she shot at Peter and Neal was of absolute hatred.

"I hope you're here to get me to Mr. Neal Caffrey. 'Cause if not, then can it. I don't give a f-"

"Present and accounted for," Neal said, his heart hammering, although you couldn't tell by looking at him. "Neal Caffrey at your service."

The girl's eyes flicked to them and he saw something there, something he couldn't place.

"Where's Kate Moreau?" she said, venom in her voice.

Neal stepped back as if she had slapped him in the face. "Wha-what?" he asked. What was she talking about? She couldn't be talking about his Kate? She couldn't be.

"Where is she!" she exclaimed. "Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. I know you do. She told me if anything happens to find Neal Jeffry Caffrey. You're him. So where is she?"

Neal couldn't find his voice. Who was this girl? What was she talking about? Why did she want to find Kate? Why had Kate told her to come to him? Why?

"I-I…" he trailed off.

Meanwhile, Peter was getting everyone out of the room, save for Jones and whispering to him. Soon, the room was empty and it was only them. Jones had left to do an errand for Peter and the older man could only watch.

"Where is she?" the girl asked again.

Neal finally found his voice. "Why do you care?"

The girl looked incredulous. "Because she's my mother!"

Neal felt the world fall away. Her-her mother? How could that be? Kate wouldn't be with anyone else, save him. Right? He had to be right, or else what he was fighting for, fighting to find her killer, was for nothing.

Neal's jaw tightened. This girl was obviously mistaken. He had to set her right. "No she's not."

The girl stepped back in astonishment. "Excuse me?" she asked. "What do you mean she's not my mother?"

Neal shook his head. "She can't be. I'd have known."

She shook her head and looked at Peter who was even looking at them in surprise, wondering who was freaking him out more; Kate's supposed daughter, or Neal so vehemently rejecting the idea form the girl herself.

"Are you listening to this?" she asked Peter. The man could only watch. "How can the woman who's been raising me not be my mother?"

Neal started. She had been raising her? "What?"

The girl started to nod. "Raising me. She raised me until I was nine and then she sent me to boarding school in Maine. She visited me once a month after that. She always told me that if anything happened, to find Neal Caffrey. I wonder why. You're such a jackass."

Neal froze. He remembered Kate falling off the face of the world for about a decade and then meeting back up with him one day, as if they had run into each other. And it was true; every month she had taken a trip somewhere. He had been worried at first, but then, as it reoccurred, he was used to it and Kate would always be back a few days later.

"And then," the girl was continuing, "And then she disappeared. She spoke to me one month, looked kind of tense. Stayed throughout Junior Banquet and everything. And then, she just left. Just left." The girl looked as if she were about to cry. "She left and hasn't been in touch for months now." She wiped a tear away.

All Neal could think of to say was, "Who's your father?'

She seemed startled by this. "An art dealer my mom left. Haven't met him, don't know his name. Why? What does this have to do with my mother?"

"She's not your mother!" Neal said angry, not knowing what he was saying.

"Stop saying that!" she screamed back.

"Hey," Peter said, cutting in. They may have been alone, but, they really needed to calm down. "Guys, you might just wanna-"

"NO!" they said in unison. "Stay out of it!"

In more of surprise than in doing what they asked, Peter stepped back and let them argue it out. He just hoped Neal didn't do anything… stupid in his rage.

Wow. It was weird to think of Neal as doing something stupid.

Peter didn't like it at all.

The two returned to fighting. "Why do you keep saying that!" she yelled.

Neal looked uncontrolled. "Because I know her. I know her! She couldn't… she couldn't…"

"SHE DID!" the girl yelled. "I don't know why she told me to come to you. You who doesn't even believe me. 'Go to Neal, Cami', she said. 'If there's a problem, go to Neal Caffrey."

Neal stopped. Did she just say Cami? "Cami?" he said. "As in Cameron? Your name is Cameron?"

She nodded. "Yes. My name is Cameron Moreau. Where is my mother Neal Caffrey? WHERE IS SHE?"

Neal swallowed. Was Kate taunting him, even in her death? That had been a name he always loved. They had talked about baby names once, out of the blue. That had been his favorite. She knew that. She knew that.

And then she had named some other man's daughter with it.

"SHE'S DEAD!" he yelled.

Cameron froze, mouth half open, about to yell out a response when she heard him. "Wha-what?"

"She's dead, blown up in a plane," Neal said, without thinking how it would affect the young girl.

What happened next was not what he expected.

Because, she punched him.

He never even saw it coming, just landed on his backside and felt immense pain in his nose as he landed. When he looked back up, sporting a nose-bleed, the sixteen year old was cradling her hand to her chest, tears of pain going down her face.

But it wasn't just the pain of her hand. It was the pain of what he had just told her.

For a moment, as she sunk to the ground, in tears, everything went quiet for Neal. He wanted to hate the girl, Cameron, hate her. But he found he couldn't. How could he hate someone that was a part of Kate, a woman he loved so much?

He couldn't.

And so, he realized his mistake as the sound and color came back to the world.

Cameron was in a corner of the room, crying, screaming, "NO!". She was rocking back and forth, making the most pitiful noises Neal had ever heard.

"Oh God," he said, looking to Peter, who had a look on shock on his face. "Oh God what have I done?" He crawled to the crying girl, happy that she had punched him, knowing he deserved worse for what he had just done. He had just told an innocent young girl that her mother was dead. Right to her face, brutally and savagely. "Cameron?" he said to the shaking trembling mass. "Cameron I'm so sor-"

"Get away from me!" she shrieked. "Get away from me! I hate you! I hate you!" She pushed back and into the wall, trying to get away from Neal.

For some reason, the pain in his heart was far greater than the pain his nose felt.

Peter was calling someone on his walkie-talkie then, getting someone to come down and get Cameron, most likely. Neal could only sit and watch her cry, cry pitifully. He couldn't move, only felt numb.

Diana came in, Jones behind her, but only them. They took the scene in with quick eyes and confused minds, but rushed over to Peter and were debriefed.

Diana looked at him in surprise a few seconds later and so did Jones. At the sight of another woman, someone she could confide in, Cameron got up and started walking over to her, in hysterics, blubbering the whole way there. Diana saw her and walked over to meet her.

It happened so fast after that.

Neal saw the man in black on the top window, perched on the roof. He saw the sniper gun he had aimed on someone down below. He followed the line of the gun, saw it led to Cameron who was making her way across the room to Diana. He saw the man's finger going down.

It was like instinct. He had found a piece of Kate. He wasn't going to let her go. He jumped up and ran.

"Cameron!" he yelled. She stopped and looked behind her, looking at him with hatred and then with confusion. "Cameron!" he yelled. "GET DOWN!"

And then, he heard the click, knew the gunman had shot, knew the bullet was flying toward them at that instant. She froze, looking behind him, fear in her eyes. Neal threw himself at the last moment, knocking into her, toppling her to the ground. The bullet whizzed by them as he covered her with his body, grazing his shoulder and sending a bolt of lightning pain through him.

He felt her shaking beneath him, crying, from fear or sadness he couldn't tell, but crying nonetheless. He heard Peter and Jones yell, cock their guns and start shooting at the almost-murderer. But Neal knew he would be gone by then.

Neal rolled off Cameron and surprisingly extended a hand to help her up. Even more surprising, she let him haul her to her feet. And then, she looked at him and burst into tears. Instinctively, Neal took her into his arms and let her cry. She sobbed so hard, that they wracked her body.

He felt her pain.

First he had broken her heart and made her lose all hope of finding her mother. And then this.

Someone was trying to kill her.

And now, he knew why.

She was Kate's daughter.

Kate's daughter.

And someone wanted her dead.

Someone had come to finish the job.

Neal didn't like it. Not one bit.

And if he had a say in it, nothing was going to happen to this girl.

Absolutely nothing.

"I'll keep you safe," Neal whispered to her, as the other barked orders or ran to do them. Cameron just cried. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

* * *

**So, what did you think? Cara, you first.**

**Cara: *drool* So-much-danger! *smiles* YES!**

**Me: Well, if Cara approves...**

**REVIEW!**

**And please don't prove Cara wrong!**

**Also, please rate Neal Caffery from 1-10 in your review! I need to know, cuz right now he's an infinity. **

**Just let me now if i'm wrong, cuz he is foine.**

**Cara: What is this...'foine'?**

**Me: I'll explain later, Carrie.**

**Cara: You promise? *scowl* And stop callimg me that.**

**Me: *sigh* I promise. 'Cross my heart and hope to die'! He He! I quoted Neal!**

**Cara: Technically, you quoted you, so...**

**Me: Shut up Carrie. Just-shut up.**

**Cara: STOP CALLING ME THAT!**

**Review?**


	2. She Hates Me

**K. Here's the second installment. And Cara has something to say:**

**Cara: thank you Heart. *glare at readers* Now. Heart got a review that made her cry. It wasn't meant to I understand, but it still did. You know who you are. If you don't like this fic, which why you wouldn't eludes me, then don't read it and don't review. it is her fic and she can do what she wants with it. In the famous words of... What was it again?**

**Me: St. Fang of Boredom.**

**Cara: *lightbulb* Yes. In the famous words of St. Fang of Boredom: **

**My fic. My rules. Screw you.**

**Me: *appalled*CARA! Do NOT use that type of language with my readers!**

**Cara: *angry* Well, someone made you cry! And only I ****get to do that.**

**Me: O.o Thanks for the concern Cara.**

**Cara: *smile* You're welcome.**

**So anyways, what i'm trying to say is that if you don;t approve of the fic, then don't review or send me a private message. It kind of emmbarresses me, if anything. *glare* And i didn't cry Cara. I've been flamed before. I'm not a total helpless baby.**

**Cara: You coulda fooled me.**

***sigh* So anyways, (ignore her) just enjoy this chapter. i tried to improve my writng skills so that whoever complained last time (i'm not saying names) can maybe be satisfied. Ok? Everyone happy?**

**And please don't hate me just because i mentioned it. I just thought i should get my thoughts out. I'm not mad, just hurt, ok? I will continue with this fic too, no harm done. Just-yeah. you heard. And anyway, the person remedied there unsatisfactoryness with a 'hope you contiue in the end. I understand that they were just curious, but... yeah. It made me feel a little bad.**

**So anyway...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own White Collar.**

**Enjoy. Please.**

* * *

**Third Person: Neal**

Neal tried not to be so pessimistic about the current situation he was in, but he really couldn't help it. After they had chased down the shooter fruitlessly, Neal had taken Cameron upstairs to an interrogation room where she then had ripped herself away from him and sat as far away from him as humanly possible.

Neal had waited for Peter to come back an hour later and Cameron was then escorted out to talk to Diana. That just left Peter and Neal. And then Peter had gone crazy on Neal. He had yelled at him, called him selfish and stupid, had insulted him in the worst of ways and Neal had sat and taken it. He couldn't defend himself, knew it was all true.

And then, peter had tiredly sat down and told Neal to go home, that he couldn't deal with him at the moment, that he just needed to think. He had then asked Peter what would happen to Cameron and Peter had responded that if it was his business, he'd know.

And then, Neal left.

The second he walked in the door, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he had picked it up and was very surprised to hear Peter's voice telling him to come back, that it had just become his business.

So Neal went back again.

He tried not to show his annoyance at the situation, but the emotion died away when he walked into Peter's office and was met with a stony-faced Cameron. Peter was in his chair behind his desk and then proceeded to explain that Cameron was being chased down, by whom, they didn't know. But, since they still needed to do more research on her and who would have custody of her now, if anyone, and since she was now a target, she would be held in their Witness Protection Program, just until they could figure out who was trying to kill her.

Of course, she had a little more freedom than most in the WPP would have since she hadn't really witnessed anything and was just being watched over in case anything happened to her by the FBI. She could still go outside if she wanted to, be around other people. And she didn't have to stay in a safe house.

"So where is she going to stay?" Neal had asked, already not liking the sound of it.

Peter had smiled and said, "Why, with you of course."

And that was where Neal was now, on his front doorstop, handing their landlord more papers signed by the FBI, saying that she was to also house Cameron Moreau.

Neal sighed and looked at an ashen faced Cameron. She had spoken the whole way there, hadn't said a word. She hadn't even looked at Neal. And Neal couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She looked like Kate, though not that much. Her bone structure was a lot more square, her eyes having this special brightness, this awareness that he couldn't remember seeing in Kate's.

He nodded and gave a fake smile as the older woman left and it was just him and the teenage girl standing in front of the door. "So, this is where you're going to live," he tried.

She didn't even so much as acknowledge that he spoke.

Neal sighed and opened the door, calling out, "Mozzie, I'm home!"

He walked in, throwing his hat down on the table, gesturing for Cameron to come inside. AS she stiffly walked in, her saw her eyes take in the room, strangely registering the windows and different doors. He watched her arresting blue-eyes gaze glide over everything in the room.

Everything except him.

"Hey Neal," he heard Moz's voice say as he walked into the room. "I was just wondering, do you…" Mozzie's voice trailed away as his eyes landed on Cameron. When she met his look, her eyes icy and cold and hard as steel, Moz looked away and to Neal. "Why hello, hello. And who is this, pray tell?"

Neal couldn't bring himself to look at anyone as he spoke. "This is Cameron. She's going to be staying with us for a while."

"I refuse," Mozzie said, to both Neal and Cameron's surprise, making Neal look up.

"What?" he asked.

"I said I-"

Suddenly, Cameron threw her bag down and walked over to Mozzie. She was a good foot and a half taller than him and the rage in her eyes was enough to make even the most courageous of men shrink back and away.

And Mozzie was not the most courageous of men.

Far from it.

"You know what?" she said, getting into his face, making him move back and toward Neal. "I don't give a fuck is you 'refuse', because guess what, asshole? I refused too! And you know what? Huh, you know what?"

Mozzie shook his head no.

"Those FBI agents didn't give a damn! That's what! So you just shut up and swallow all those 'I refuse's' before I go and shove them up where the sun don't shine!"

Mozzie lifted an arm and pointed down a lonely hall. "There. Second door on the left, the spare room. You can't miss it.

Cameron moved back and away and hooked a strand of stray hair behind her ear as she picked up her duffel bag of clothes and walked down the hall, opened the door and then slammed it shut without so much as another word.

Mozzie sat down in a kitchen chair in shock. "Who the hell was that?"

Now, Neal swallowed, trying to smother the emotions that he had been holding in all day and failing miserably. He collapsed into a chair next t Moz and looked into his friend's eyes saying, "She's Kate's daughter."

And that was it. Neal had finally admitted it to someone other than himself and now, he burst into tears, not knowing what to do with himself.

Mozzie's eyes widened at the sight of his friend in tears. He had never seen Neal cry. Never. This was just something totally unnatural. Neal didn't cry. But that was what he was doing.

Crying.

"Neal?" Moz asked, not knowing what to do in this situation, never having been in it.

Neal looked up, eyes red, the tears coming to a halt. "I'm sorry, Mozzie. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I thought I had lost Kate forever, and then her daughter shows up on my front doorstep. How am I supposed to react to that?" Neal shook his head despairingly. "I don't know, Moz. I just don't know. A part of me wants to keep this girl I don't know close just because of what me and her mother had. Another part of me wants to hate her because-because…"

"Because she's not yours," Mozzie finished for him.

Neal nodded. "And I know it's wrong. But I don't care Moz. It's bad, but I don't care. And every time I look at her, I see Kate. In the way she walks, talks. It kills me. It really does." Neal now looked into Mozzie's eyes, his heart twisting as he spoke of his beloved. "She hates me Moz."

"Who?"

"Cameron. She hates me so much." Neal dropped his head into his hands. "I told her Kate was dead. I told her straight to her face, without mercy, without feeling, without thinking." Neal looked up, his eyes with a crazy sheen to them. "I just told her Moz. I literally yelled it at her." Neal laughed without humor. "I couldn't believe her, I told her so too. Told her she just couldn't be Kate's daughter."

"You never thought she could love anyone but you," Moz said.

Neal nodded, in a daze. "No. I always thought… well, I always thought…"

"That if Kate were to ever have children, they would be yours," Moz said again.

Neal scowled. "Stop doing that. What, can you read my mind, Moz?" He laughed bitterly. "Or am I just that easy to read?"

Moz patted his hand from across the table. "Just too easy to read right now my friend." And then he scowled and said, "And I don't approve of how you told Ms. Moreau how her mother died. Just because I'm curious, how did she take it?"

Neal smiled now, something tiny and whimsical. "She punched me in the nose."

"Ah," Mozzie said. "So that would be why it's all red, yes?"

Neal nodded. And then, he got this faraway look in his eyes. "And then she cried and said she hated me." Now he looked at Moz. "And then she almost got gunned down by an assassin."

Moz gasped. "She what? Why, what happened?"

Neal shook his head. "I think it's because someone found out she was Kate's daughter. But that still doesn't seem reason enough to want to kill her. I don't know what else though. As for the 'what happened', I knocked her out of the way."

Moz shook his head. "You ruin the girl's life and then you save it. You continue to elude me, Neal Caffrey."

Moz shook his head as Neal bit his lip and said, "Yeah. I confuse myself too."

"Her father maybe?" Moz said out of nowhere.

"What?" Neal answered.

"I meant to say, that other reason that she's being killed. Her father. Maybe he had enemies?"

Neal barked out a cold laugh. "She told me her father was an art dealer her mother left." He flashed a cold look at Mozzie. "I don't think art dealers have enemies, Moz. Not the normal type."

Moz shrugged. "Maybe he was more than an art dealer? After all, you posed as one and stole paintings while you were at it. This guy could have had the same idea."

Neal grunted and shook his head. "Or maybe, Moz, he was just an art dealer."

"How exciting," his little friend conceded. "I can see why Kate left him for you."

"Came back to me," Neal said, staring off into space.

"Pardon? Come again?"

"This isn't the first time Kate and I have been together."

"Well," Moz said. "I didn't know."

Neal looked out into space, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. "No one else does either." He looked to Moz and at that moment, his blue0eyed gaze reminded Moz of Cameron's when she was yelling at him. "And I expect it to stay that way."

* * *

**Third Person: Cameron**

Cameron leaned against her room door, her bag on the bed in front of her. Her heart hurt so badly. If I kill myself, she thought, maybe the pain will go away.

She slumped against the door, sliding to the floor, biting her lip, running a hand through her black hair, staring out into space, her blue eyes blurring with tears. She missed her other, hated that she had come looking for the only person who would know where she was and finding that she was dead.

Dead as dead can be.

Blown up. In a plane. Blown up.

Cameron screamed into her hands and felt the tears come in a torrent of salt water. She couldn't think of that, not now. She would have nightmares for eternity.

She sat back against the door, thinking of her what now were her mother's final words to her:

"I want you to meet someone. I want you to meet your father."

_Your father._

_YOUR FATHER._

Cameron thought it cruel that she would never see her n=mother again or her father for that matter. That was who her mother said she was going to bring the next time she visited. Her father. She would never meet him, never see her mother again. She wanted to die. It wasn't worth being around if her mother was gone.

And then there was Neal Caffrey. She wanted to hate Neal Caffrey, hate him till she died. But she couldn't. Somehow she couldn't. She had just said that to make him be in as much pain as she was. That and punching him in the nose had seemed like a good idea.

And it had worked.

The look on her face had given her the smallest amount of satisfaction that she wasn't the only one in pain.

And what was so great about Neal Caffrey anyway? Why had her mother chosen that man to come to when she was in trouble? He had been the man who cruelly told her her mother was dead, who had argued with her that she wasn't her mother's daughter. Who had ruined her life.

And why did her care? Why did he care at all? He didn't know her mother, didn't care about her, didn't care about her mother, didn't love her. He didn't hear her voice every time he went to sleep, didn't see her faced every time he closed his eyes like pictures burned into the back of his lids. He didn't feel her touch every time he thought of her, didn't see her everywhere he looked.

He didn't even know her.

Cameron hugged herself in the dark, crying, shaking and rocking herself back and forth.

She wanted to die, was sure it was so much easier being dead.

Cameron idly heard voices outside her door, people speaking. Probably Caffrey and Mozzie, she thought. But as she listened, she heard someone start to cry. Slowly, with painstaking caution, she opened the door without a creak and quietly made her way down the now darkened hall. She stood there, in the shadows where the two men couldn't hear her and listened to snippets of their conversation.

"…to keep this girl I don't know close just because of what me and her mother had. Another part of me wants to hate her because-because…"

That was Neal.

"Because she's not yours."

That was the little man, Moz.

And what were they talking about?

She tried to decipher it, but failed miserably. She hadn't caught the beginning of the conversation, couldn't understand why it was Caffrey that was crying. She just couldn't.

She returned her attention to the conversation, catching snippets again, trying to fit them with what she had heard, not understanding still.

"…bad, but I don't care. And every time I look at her, I see Kate. In the way she walks, talks…"

Neal again. What was he talking about? He had seen her mother before? He sounded torn.

She shook her head and almost squealed in surprise at what she heard now.

"…hates me, Moz."

Neal.

"Who?"

Moz.

"Cameron. She hates me so much…"

Neal thought she hated him. And it was true that she was trying to, trying so hard to, knew that she should, but couldn't bring herself to hate him. He had saved her, promised to take care of her. He probably thought she hadn't heard him say that. 'Cross my heart and hope to die', he had said, like he was a five year old at the playground.

But it had worked.

She had calmed enough to be angry and get away from him so she could think, think about what to think about the man that seemed so familiar to her. Had she seen him before, she had though when she had seen him for the first time. Do I know him?

She shook her head now, trying to get more of the conversation, anything that could help make this make sense.

"…her father maybe?" Moz said out of nowhere.

She listened now, her blood pumping through her, pounding in her ears.

"What?" Neal answered.

"I meant to say, that other reason that she's being killed. Her father. Maybe he had enemies?"

She felt her blood run. Was that even possible?

But Neal barked just laughed. "She told me her father was an art dealer her mother left." He paused. "I don't think art dealers have enemies, Moz. Not the normal type."

She nodded to herself. Neal made sense.

Then Moz said something that surprised Cameron even more. "Maybe he was more than an art dealer? After all, you posed as one and stole paintings while you were at it. This guy could have had the same idea."

Cameron raised an eyebrow. He had what? Who was Neal Caffrey? Who was he and how did he know her mother?

Neal grunted. "Or maybe, Moz, he was just an art dealer."

She nodded. Maybe that was just it. She started to back away, having heard enough, being too tired to think any more to make sense of what she had heard. She made her way back to her room, quietly closed the door and threw herself on her bed.

Her mother had used to hum a lullaby when she was little to get her to sleep. When she went off to boarding school, she had given Cameron a music box that played the same tune. She hummed it now, regretting that her mother had said she needed the music box back, something about it being an heirloom and needing to get it insured. She hummed it trying to sing herself to sleep, trying to grasp and hold happy memories of her mother in her mind, using the lullaby to bring them forth.

But all she dreamed of that night, as she drifted off into sleep, Neal and Moz turning in for the night, was of a plane.

Blowing up.

And somehow, she knew her mother was inside.

* * *

**So was that better? I don't know, you tell me. And please be nice. Even if that means you hate it so much that you can't review. I'll understand. Just send me a PM that says it really sucked if you really hate it.**

**There's more to come though.**

**REVIEW?**

**If you want to that is.**


	3. You're So Broken

**So here's the third chapter. I honor 9/11 in my author's note today. K? k.**

**Cara: This one was too sappy for my taste.**

**Me: hey! neal and Cam are getting along. What more could yuo want?**

**Cara: *miff* Well, i guess there was some blood...**

**Me: yeah.**

**Cara: *smile* And there was a weak spined whelp too. Even worse than the blond whelp. At least he can hold his stomach around blood.**

**Me: Cara. Be nice. It's not Jace's fault.**

**Cara: That he's a whelp? yes. I fear it is. And there's nothing that can be done to help it.**

***sticks tongue out***

**Andyways, here it is.**

**DIscLAimER: I do not own White Collar. Only the OCs. And there's only one at that. *sigh***

**ENJOY!**

* * *

"It's been two weeks!" Neal exclaimed.

Moz just shrugged. "She has the right to sulk, Neal. You can't make her get out."

"But she's been inside her room for two whole weeks! That can't be healthy."

Moz rolled his eyes. "I say we let her cope with her mother's death any way she pleases." He crossed his arms and looked away, very Mozzie-like.

Neal sighed. "You're just siding with her because she likes you better than me. And because you don't approve of the way I told her about Kate." He swallowed the lump in his throat.

It had been two weeks since Cameron had come to live with them. And she had been hauled up in her room ever since, although she had been so much nicer to Moz the second day and so forth, still refusing to talk to Neal.

Sometimes, Neal would walk by and see Moz sitting in front of the door, reading her a book, or talking to her and Neal feared he was getting to know the only piece of Kate left better than him.

Cameron refused to leave her room. Moz would bring her all her food and slide it to her through a crack in the door. He had no idea how she was showering or going to the bathroom, nor did he want to know as long as she wasn't tearing up his floors and digging a hole so she could relieve herself in.

He shook his head. This couldn't go on. And he was bored out of his mind. Just the other week Peter had asked him to stay home with her until she finally got out of her room while they looked into her would-be-murderer. Peter had told him that it wasn't healthy for her to be holed up in that tiny room, all alone with no one to talk to, no one to share her grief with. He said it wasn't right.

Neal had to agree.

He felt a sort of responsibility for her, since he had been the one to make her feel that way, put her in this state, instead of easing her into it and helping her out of it. He wanted to make her feel better, but knew she would never let him try.

"I need to get her out of that room, Moz. She can't stay in there forever."

Mozzie sniffed in Neal's direction very over-dramatically and said, "Well, I think she can. She certainly has the drive."

Neal rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Moz was worse than a teenage girl. "Please Mozzie. I'm trying to set things right between us. It's been two weeks and she hasn't said a word to me. She hasn't seen me period."

Moz appraised him and said, "You don't look any different."

Neal sighed. "You know that's not what I mean Moz."

The little man sighed. "I hate to admit that you're right, but you're right. Why don't you do something with her?"

Neal's big blue eyes widened. "Like what Moz? I have no idea what she likes to do. She doesn't talk to me!"

"How about rollerblading?" Moz suggested.

Neal shook his head in incredulity. "What?"

Moz tried to be inconspicuous and nodded slightly to the corner of the room. Neal tilted his head and looked over to find to sets of rollerblades in the corner. He groaned and said, "Can she even rollerblade?"

Moz shrugged. "How should I know?" he asked, indignant.

"You bought them!"

Moz looked miffed. "Well, I thought it would be fun. Go on and ask her. She might say yes."

Neal shook his head and decided to humor Moz. He walked down the hall, in nothing but a pair of old blue jeans and a t-shirt and stopped in front of her door, he bare feet sticking to the floor. Neal lifted his hand and stopped mid-knock. Could he do it?

He shook his head and rapped his knuckles on her wooden door. Nothing happened. She didn't even acknowledge he was there.

So he spoke. "Hey, Cameron?"

"Yeah, Moz?" came the reply.

Neal sighed and leaned against the wall beside her door. "Not Moz."

He heard the absolute anger in her voice, but felt a surge of happiness that she was even talking to him. "_Why are you here_?"

"My house," he countered.

"My room!"

"I'm technically in still in the hall, Cameron."

She was silent at that.

Neal cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out and do something. With me."

"I didn't take it that I was your type Caffrey," she replied with dark humor.

He shook his head, knowing that the sixteen year old was just taking out her grief on the person that had caused her it. "Don't be like that Cameron. C'mon. get out of your room." He had said it was her room, his way of compromising.

"Right now?" came the reply.

He nodded and then realized she couldn't see him. "Yeah."

"Then no."

Neal sighed. "Why not? You've been in your room for the past fourteen days, three hours and twelve minutes. Don't make it thirteen."

She was silent and then, "You counted?"

He thought he heard something in her voice that suggested something that he couldn't place. "Yeah," he said, his forehead now against the door. "I've been counting."

She was silent so he went on. "I mean, how do you even pee?"

With that, the door creaked open and she pushed out a bedpan. Neal stepped back as she closed the door and he heard her giggle, a pleasant sound that sounded so much like Kate that he had to swallow several times before he spoke.

"I see Mozzie has been spoiling you."

"Yes I have, jerk," Mozzie said as he walked by with a basket of laundry. Then he mouthed, 'rollerblading' and continued down the hall.

"Yes he has," she said.

Neal sighed. "Please come out? We can do something fun."

"Like what?"

Neal felt his heart accelerate as he thought that he might have her. "Rollerblading."

Without another word, the door opened and she walked out in a pair of black skinny jeans, a black thermal that said, 'Blink 182' on it and she was barefoot. She walked past him without looking at him at all and made her way to the kitchen, a thundercloud above her brow, it seemed.

She looked tired, he noticed, as she turned to him, anger in her eyes, her mouth in a grim line. "Are you coming or not?" she barked, her voice taught.

He followed, grabbing a sweater off the coat rack, saying, "Grab a sweater, it's-"

"Whatever," she cut him off with, snagging one of his hoodies and pulling it on over her head. She grabbed the smaller pair of rollerblades and walked out the door with them, already making her way downstairs.

Neal shook his head, grabbing a gray hoodie and throwing it on, grabbing the other pair of rollerblades and making his way behind her, an unseen Moz closing the door behind him.

He found her on the outside front step, pulling the rollerblades on, struggling with the straps. He sat down on the sidewalk and pulled his on, throwing his sneakers inside the doorway. When he got up, balancing himself, he saw her still struggling.

"Do you know how to put those on?" he asked her.

Instead of answering, she growled, "I'm fine. Leave me alone."

Neal raised his hands in surrender. After a few minutes, it seemed she had them and she used the doorframe to help her up. She took a few steps and almost fell. It was only Neal holding her up by her elbow. She jerked away from his touch as if it were poison.

"have you ever rollerbladed before?" he asked her.

"It doesn't matter. I can do this," she spat out vehemently and continued to wobble her way down the sidewalk.

Neal wondered why she even bothered to come out. Maybe she had been sick of staying inside the confines of her room and he had finally provided a way out that didn't hurt her pride.

Neal gracefully rollerbladed past her, executing a perfect turn as he spun around to make his way back to her. She was, he saw, holding onto things, like fire hydrants, telephone poles and other cars, to keep her balance. She wobbled like a toddler learning to walk. She would make weird sounds as she almost lost her balance and threw herself onto things, saving herself from a fall. He circled her a few times, then ahead and then back. At one point, he even waited for her to catch up to him.

"We can go back," he suggested to her when she caught up to him.

The look of determination in her eyes almost scared him. "I can do this. Shut up and rollerblade."

Neal tilted his head to the side and widened his eyes, muttering, "If you say so."

They rollerbladed, well he did, she just wobbled, for a whole hour before it happened. He knew it was going to happen a split second before it did.

She was going smoothly for the first time in a whole hour and then, the toe of her rollerblade got stuck in a crack and she went down. He had been watching from behind, making sure she was ok. And then that had happened.

Neal felt terror grip him as she cried out and connected hard with the pavement. He rollerbladed as fast as he could, over to her. Her feet had just snapped out from under her and he saw her turning over, heard her groaning.

He caught his breath as he saw through the rip in her jeans a deep cut, oozing blood. Neal stopped in front of her and kneeled down in front of her.

"Are you ok?"

She closed her eyes, her face scrunching in pain. "I'm-ok," she muttered through gritted teeth.

"No you're not," he said. He gestured to her ripped jeans. "Your jeans are ripped. And your hurt."

She looked at him incredulously. "They were ripped already. That's the style, Caffrey."

He sighed, letting it slide. "Yeah, but the cut wasn't." She looked away from him as he said, "Look at it, it's bleeding."

Suddenly, her face turned so pale he thought she was going to throw up. She looked down at her knee and then recoiled. "It is?"

Neal blinked. Was she alright. "Cameron, you ok?"

"I-I'm fine," she said weakly.

She doesn't like blood, he thought. But, so as not to put her in a bad mood, he said, "Why don't we go on home and see if we can't fix that?"

Instead of complying though, she yelled, "Leave me alone, Neal! Just leave me alone!" She struggled to stand up and, using a car beside her, stood and wobbled over to the little alley that connected two buildings. Instead of going on, as he thought she would, Neal saw Cameron's shoulder's start to shake and then, he saw her lean against one of the walls of the buildings and sink down to the ground.

His heart went on overdrive as he rollerbladed over to her. Was she ok?

He made his way over and heard her faintly. She was crying. Neal went to the opening of the little alley way and stood at a distance, letting her have a few more moments alone before he walked in.

He made his way to her and sat down beside her, leaning his back against the cold brick of the building behind them. He turned to her then, saying, "Cameron?"

"Go away," she sobbed. He was surprised he could understand her at all.

"What's wrong?"

She looked up at him. She was crying. Tears dragged down the black eye liner she had, making dirty tracks down her cheeks. "She's not here," she sobbed.

Neal knew immediately what she was talking about. "Oh Cameron," he started.

"Don't 'oh Cameron' me!" she yelled and sobbed at the same time. "I shouldn't be here. I should be with my mom, eating breakfast at some diner in Maine, talking about nothing important, just enjoying each other's company. But instead I'm here, crying over the fact that she's dead and she's never coming back!"

She buried her face in her knees, her arms wrapped around them. Neal adopted the position, resting his chin on the tops of his knees instead. "I hate myself so much," he confided. She looked up at him, slight confusion in her eyes. Neal bit the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking down like the girl beside him was. "I can't believe I was so heartless to tell you about your mother like that. I hate myself." He looked into the teenager's unbelieving eyes."I hate myself for putting you through this pain."

"You know," she said, her voice thick and shaky, "all I could think of back there when I fell, was that my mom would have said exactly what you did. She would have helped me up and brought me back home, would've cursed my stupid ripped jeans. She would have cleaned it while humming my favorite song, stuck a cheesy rainbow band-aid onto it, kissed it better even. She would have called me her angel. She would have taken me out to eat anywhere I wanted to go." Tears streamed down her face now. "And instead, all I got was the man you told me she died kneeling in front of me, being as gentle and nice as she would have been, and I'm thinking, why do you care?" She turned to him now, looked into his deep blue eyes.

"Why do you care, Neal Caffrey? Why?"

Neal looked into her bottomless cerulean eyes. "Because," he said, feeling the uncomfortable lump in his throat, "I loved your mother."

Her eyes widened as she looked into Neal's eyes, looking for the telltale sign that he was lying, coming up empty. "_You what_?"

Neal shook his head, running his hands through his hair and leaning his head back into the bricks behind them. "I was in love with your mother. After she left your father, she was with me." He risked a glance at Cameron's astonished face. "God, I loved her so much. And I was such a bad person, did so many bad things, and she still loved me. I was in prison you know, when she ended it with me. But she only did that to help me. I escaped," he looked away. "I went to her. I was going to escape on the plane she was on with her. But I was sick of running. Peter was the one chasing me. I turned to-to talk to him."

Neal closed his eyes now. When he opened them, Cameron saw that they were red and glassy, as if he were trying to keep himself from crying. "And then the plane blew up. Right there, in front of me. And I couldn't stop it." Neal dropped his head into his head and sniffled. "I couldn't stop it."

Cameron swallowed, feeling the guilt rise up in her. So that was why Neal Caffrey cared so much. That was why. She felt guilty for blaming him for everything, for thinking that he didn't care. For everything.

"Neal?" she said.

He looked up and a tear escaped the confines of his eyes. "I've been trying to find out who did this to her. To me." He now looked her in the eyes, the blue of them matching hers. "To us."

She swallowed. "And?"

He shook his head in despair. "I don't know. I wish I did so I could kill the bastard and watch him die, but I don't know. I know I almost have him. I know I do. But he's just out of my reach." Another tear escaped and Neal vigorously wiped it away. "So close…"

"Yet so far away," Cameron finished.

Neal nodded. "You should hate me, Cameron. I don't blame you for hating me. I was cruel, wrong in telling you what happened to your mother the way I did. It was just the shock of seeing you. I didn't think-didn't know… didn't believe…"

The truth dawned on her as it had on Mozzie. "You didn't think she'd love anyone like that except you. You thought that if she ever had any kids…"

"That they'd be mine?" Neal finished. "Yeah. Yeah I did. That's why I couldn't believe it. I'm so sorry, Cameron." He shook his head and let it drop into his lap.

"I don't hate you," Cameron found herself saying.

Neal looked up in surprise. "What?"

She shook her head. "I don't hate you. I never did. I just… I don't know. I couldn't stand you. You seemed so, I don't know. I didn't have a word. But now I do." She placed a hand on Neal's shoulder and as he looked up, said, "You're so broken Neal. You're broken on the inside. I can see it."

Neal looked away, knowing that it was true and that it took a sixteen year old girl to tell him that to his face. No one else had said it, in fear that he wouldn't be able to handle it, and maybe, before this, he hadn't been.

"And I'm sorry for you Neal," she said. "This isn't fair to you. And I want you to know that I forgive you for hurting me like that." She had tears in her eyes and Neal saw that it was taking a lot of maturity for her to say what she was saying to him. "I'm sorry that I judged you, even if you weren't aware of it. I did. It was wrong." She wiped a tear as it came and then another and another. "We both lost someone we cared about."

Neal couldn't even respond, he was afraid he might either say something stupid and ruin the moment, or cry and scare her.

He could only stare out to space.

She started to run a hand through her black hair, biting her lip as she stared out into space. And it was only when Neal looked at her that he realized he was doing the same exact thing. He stopped and looked at his hands, like maybe there was a reason why they were unconsciously doing the same thing at the same time in them.

A weird feeling came into his stomach then and, although he couldn't place it, his subconscious had already found the reason.

Cameron suddenly got up and then reached a hand down for him. He took her offer and hauled himself up. Then she smiled, although it was tinged with sadness.

"So… you think you can teach me how to do this rollerblading thing right? Before I fall and rip open my other knee?"

For the first time in two weeks, Neal smiled. And this time, he meant it.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

* * *

Neal and Cameron rollerbladed back, actually keeping pace with each other. It had been several hours that they had been out, not even stopping for lunch, so when they got home, both were quite hungry.

Cameron hadn't spoken a word as he gave her the correct instruction while rollerblading. She had proved a fine student and was now rollerblading alone, without holding onto his arm.

As they took their blades off, though, she was grimly silent and Neal feared that he had somehow unraveled what they had done this afternoon. She walked upstairs silently and into the house quietly.

And then she had dropped her rollerblades in a corner and gone down the hall and back into her room, closing the door with a smack.

Neal sighed, his heart hurting a little. He thought they had gotten past that.

He walked into the kitchen to get himself something to eat and was surprised to find Mozzie cooking.

"Moz," he said uncertainly. "You ok?"

Mozzie turned around, clad in a pink apron and making Neal's eyebrow's shoot up. "Moz, you're my best friend, not my wife. What are you doing?"

Moz sniffed in his direction and said, "I'm cooking for a change. Now. Go away. You're ruining my feng-shui."

Neal rose his hands up in surrender, not even bothering with arguing with Moz when he was in one of his moods. He went into the parlor and took out a few case files Peter had Jones bringing him to see if he could give them any insight on them. He scanned a few that were too easy, mulled over a few that were not and tossed some that made no sense.

Almost an hour later, he heard Mozzie call, "Dinner's ready!"

Neal sighed and, getting up, closed the file and made his way to the kitchen. He walked in to the smell of chicken and spices and helped Mozzie bring the platters into the room where the table was.

Neal almost dropped the plate he had.

Because sitting at the table, already setting it up to eat, was Cameron. She was sitting down; browsing through the files he had just thrown down on it.

At the sound of Moz bumping into Neal and complaining, she looked up and at their surprised faces and said, "What are you looking at?"

Neal shook his head and said, "Nothing. Nothing at all. Thanks for setting the table."

She shrugged and helped Moz bring the other plate. Diner was filled with the sound of forks and knives scraping plates and discussion on the files Peter had asked him to take a peek at. When it was over, Neal and Cameron carried the dishes to the sink and then she excused herself to the bathroom, where she claimed to need a shower and hit the hay.

She looked down at the tiled floor and muttered a good night to Neal and another as she was passing by Mozzie on her way out of the kitchen.

Mozzie curiously brought the rest of the dishes in and dumped them in the sink, turning to Neal and saying, "Well that was some amazing walk you two went on. I noticed the bandage on her knee. She fall?"

Neal absentmindedly nodded and then said, "She came out of her room. She talked to me. She ate dinner with us." He smiled for the second time that day."She said good night." He looked to Moz and his smile widened. "We're getting somewhere with this."

Mozzie nodded. "Yes. It seems we are. But she's do confusing. Mad one second, happy the next. Teenagers."

Neal nodded. "Thank goodness she's not mine."

And with that, they both laughed at the thought of Neal having a child.

Now wouldn't that be something?

Neal thought it would be.

He wasn't the only one.

* * *

**So? What do you think? Good, bad. Could be better? Could be worse? **

**Sorry. I'll let you do what you need to do.**

**Review please if you think it's good enough to.**


	4. My Lullaby

**Here it is guys, my third chapter for this in a day! Phew! I'm on a roll!**

**Cara: I don't see a roll. Where is it?**

**Me: *facepalm* **

**DISClaIMER: I don't own White Collar! *CRY* I do own the only OC though. *smile***

**ENJOYS!**

* * *

Surprisingly, things just got better.

Cameron came out of her room every day, and since it was summer and she couldn't even go to school, she hung around the house, as bored as Neal.

They talked a lot, as the weeks went by and soon, she had been there for two months.

On a particularly rainy day, when Moz was out and about doing whatever it was that Mozzie did on rainy days, Neal and Cameron were stuck inside. They hadn't heard from Peter in a few days, so Neal assumed that he was on an undercover mission. He was in an even worse mood now that he was out of work. He couldn't stand being out of the loop. It was killing him.

Weirdly, Cameron noticed this. "You ok, Neal?" she asked as he paced around the couch while she tried watching TV.

Just as he was about to answer, the TV flickered and shut off, the rain storm messing with the reception. Cameron sighed and closed the TV, sitting back with a sigh and looking at her caretaker with a worried face. She had been getting better with Neal, understood him in a way since she had spent two months in his presence.

"To answer your question," Neal said as he threw himself onto the couch beside her, "I'm fine. Just-"

"Extremely bored?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

"The FBI leaving you hanging?" she then asked. He nodded. "I've been wondering," she said as she picked at a loose string on the couch. "What do you do for the FBI?" She had noticed his ankle bracelet that one time that they had been rollerblading. They had gone a few more times after that, her strength in the sport growing, and each time, she had noticed that he had the ankle bracelet around his ankle. She was simply curious.

Neal smiled. "Why not tell a story?" He got comfortable, settling himself next to her. And then he started. "I am a… agent of types for the FBI."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

He smiled and barked out a laugh. "No, no. I'm more of an asset, then." He smiled and said, "What do you do to solve the toughest crimes?" She scrunched her eyebrows down in confusion."You hire the smartest criminal." He flashed a half smile.

Cameron flashed an identical one back. "You…"

Neil nodded. "I was a… thief of sorts. As I've explained." She remember that same day when they had gone rollerblading for the first time. "Peter caught me. After the … incident," that's what he called what happened to Kate, "the FBI offered me a deal. I help them and I get off easy."

"You agreed," she said in amazement.

He nodded. "I agreed."

"So what, you help them solve crime?"

Neal nodded. "Yeah. I know criminals best and Peter had to chase me for a year before he even got close to catching me."

"But he caught you," she pointed out.

Instead of answering, Neal said, "You know, you remind me of your mother when she was your age."

Cameron sat back. He knew her mother that long? "You knew my mother when she was sixteen?"

Neal nodded slowly and his eyes darted to the floor and then her. "Yeah. I met her our last year of high school. She as turning seventeen in two weeks. I was turning eighteen in two months." He shook his head.

But Cameron couldn't let him stop. She wanted to learn more about her mother, about her mother's past. No, she needed to know more.

"Go on," she said.

Neal shrugged. "If you want." He sat back. "It was summer, hot and sticky, and your mom was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Her hair was wavy and long and her eyes were so bright and happy." He smiled blissfully to himself, happy that he could remember Kate like that. "She had this killer smile too. She used it on everyone. But she just reeled me in with it."

Cameron laughed. "You sound like a fish."

Neal nodded, eyes wide. "Yeah, yeah. I was." He continued. "She saw something in me. And we just… clicked." He blushed remembering their first summer together-together.

"So… did you guys ever go all the way?" Cameron asked in sheer curiosity.

Neal choked on the laugh that tried to make its way up. "What?"

Cameron blushed. "Just wondering."

Neal smiled and felt a fine blush settle on his neck. "Well, back then, it was either you went all the way, or you didn't." He looked at her. "So yeah, we did go 'all the way'." Neal stopped and burst out laughing along with Cameron. "God I can't believe I just said that."

"I can!" she exclaimed, collapsing into another fit of laughs together.

Neal wiped away a tear of laughter. "So, yeah. Anyway, a few months after that, she left." Neal had gone serious.

"What?" Cameron asked, thinking he may have skipped something. "She left?"

Neal nodded. "Yeah. Just… poof. Gone. Left."

"Why?" the sixteen year old asked in confusion.

Neal shrugged. "I went to her house on her birthday, ready to give her the whole bouquet of roses I brought and she was gone. Her neighbor told me that they had moved. She hadn't told me, hadn't given me any clues to her leaving. She just did." Neal shook his head. "I never understood it. I still don't."

Cameron, personally, didn't either. "So what happened after that?"

Neal shrugged. "Well, I went off to be the…um… thief I was. I met up with her ten years later. We just… connected again. She never told me about you, or having any kids with anyone in general. We were together for a while… until…"

He trailed off. Cameron didn't mind this time.

"So, how about you? How was your mom when I wasn't around? Still as fun-loving and care-free?" Neal looked at her, hope in his eyes.

Cameron nodded, taking the story telling mantel well. "She always came to her visits smiling and euphoric. I can see that you were the one making her so happy now."

Neal smiled. "Glad I could be of service."

Cameron smiled back. "Well, anyways, she was always smiling, always happy. I took a lot to get her mad too."

"But you still managed, right?" Neal asked, a smirk twitching up the ends of his lips.

"Yeah. I still managed." She shrugged and pulled Neal's sweater closer around her as the rain fell against the window pane, beating out a smooth rhythm. "She used to sing to me," Cameron said. "Well, more like hum." She smiled contentedly. "It was this soft, odd tune, but it always got me to sleep."

Neal smiled. "How'd it go?"

Cameron smiled and then started humming the tune. Neal froze though, recognizing it as the tune from the music box. Not the normal tune though, the secret one. He felt his mouth go dry as she hummed through it.

"Where did she hear that?" Neal asked.

Hearing the worried tone in his voice, Cameron sat up and said, "Her old music box. I had it for a while before she needed it back to get it insurance. Why?" Neal went pale. "Neal? Are you ok? What's wrong?"

He looked at her and said, "She didn't need it for insurance."

"What?"

Neal quickly and calmly explained the music box situation all the way up to when Alex had given him the missing piece and he and Peter had discovered the tune. "Who's Alex Hunter?" Cameron asked.

"A close friend of your mother's and mine," Neal answered woodenly, trying to sort his confusion. I'm sorry. This is really difficult for me to grasp. That you knew the secret tune."

Cameron shook her head. "It was just a lullaby to me. I-I didn't know." She bit her lip and Neal once again realized he was doing the same thing and self consciously stopped. "Do you think…"

"That someone may have killed her over this thing?" Neal finished. They did that a lot, finishing each other's sentences, that is. "Yes. Yes I do." His eyes had this steely resolve in them. "And I plan on killing whoever's responsible."

Cameron slowly nodded then and said quietly, "I'm in."

"You're what?"

"I said I'm in," she said louder.

Neal felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. "No, absolutely not. You are not in this at all."

"What? Why not? She was my mother, Neal! Some sick and twisted bastard killed my mother, the woman who gave birth to me! The woman who raised me, the woman that loved me! My mother! I have as much of a right as you do, maybe even more so, to go after who did this to her!"

Cameron was standing up now.

Neal shook his head, the sense of her words hitting him unfairly. "No. I can't let you." He shook his head in misery. "Look, I know what this is doing to me and I'm older. You're so young. I can't have you running off, undefended going after some killer!"

"Why not! You do! And anyway, I'm not undefended. I do Judo. I'm a Judo master, Neal. And I have a killer after me, so why not?"

Neal was taken aback. "You do Judo?"

She smiled at this. "Since I was six."

Neal nodded as if it made sense. "So that was how you punched me."

Cameron laughed and it brought tears to her eyes that may or may not have been from laughter. "About that. Yeah, sorry. I was pretty pissed at you."

"No harm done," he answered. "I deserved it. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "You still can't be in this."

Cameron looked at him, and if Peter had been there, he would have said that she had been giving Neal a Neal Look. "You have no say in that, Neal. I'm in whether you like it or not."

Neal was about to protest when he saw her and the determination in her eyes. He knew that no one could change his mind when he got like that. So Neal finally complied.

"Fine. But I swear to God, the first time you get shot at…"

She rolled her eyes. "God Neal, you are such a party pooper."

He nodded. "You bet I am."

She slit her eyes playfully at him. "Pooper."

Neal got up and she took a step back and then ran as he chased her around the house. Grabbing her by the waist, Neal flung her over his shoulder and spun her around. Cameron couldn't stop laughing.

Neither could Neal.

They were still like that a few minutes later when Peter unexpectedly walked in and froze as he saw them laughing and twirling. He stood there for a second, not really understanding what was going on, since the last time he had seen the two, Cameron had been on one side of the room seething and radiating her hate for Neal, wearing it like a scarf, and Neal had been in the worst guilty state a human could be going through.

And now they were laughing.

Neal was spinning her around and around and laughing.

And they were having fun.

Peter hated to break it up and actually waited a few minutes until they had calmed down, Neal throwing Cameron onto the couch and then laughing his heart out as she sat up, her hair frizzy beyond belief. In retaliation, the sixteen year old then grabbed Neal and dragged him onto the couch, jumping on top of him and beating him senseless with a fluffy pillow, all the while Neal laughing and asking for mercy, surrendering, saying that he would no longer be a poop and rain on the Cameron Parade.

Cameron laughed and finally stopped, only to have Neal push her off the couch and make her land on her back side. The noise she made had Neal in hysterics and had her scowling, until she dragged him down with her and he landed with a thump on the ground next to her. She giggled and got up, running away from the TV area and, in spotting Peter, froze.

"Oh no you don't," Neal exclaimed, getting up and off the floor and chasing her, about to grab her and then noticing Peter too. He froze mid-grab and stopped, his arms dropping to his sides.

"No, no," Peter said, very serious. "Continue. This is something I've never seen the great Neal Caffrey do. Steal a painting; no problem. Bust a drug lord; piece of cake. Play with a sixteen and a half year old; he's got it covered." Peter raised an eyebrow.

Instead of answering, though, Neal turned to a fidgeting Cameron and said, "You're sixteen and a half? You never told me that! When's your birthday?"

She blushed and said, "It doesn't really matter."

"It's on your birthday Neal," Peter threw in.

Cameron glared at Peter and the older man raised his hands in surrender as Neal said, "Oh really? How interesting. Maybe Mozzie will try to bake a cake this year. What say you?"

It must have been an inside joke, though Peter, because Cameron burst out laughing. "Let's hope not!"

Smiling, his blue eyes shining, Neal turned to Peter and said, "What is it?"

Peter smiled. "Oh, nothing. Just thought I'd drop off a few more files to look over. You did a pretty good job analyzing last time."

"I had help," Neal said, pretending to be inconspicuous and nodding toward Cameron, who then stuck her tongue out at him. Neal looked at Peter in mock disbelief. "Can you believe her? I compliment the girl and this is how she repays me?"

Peter laughed at that one, relaxing for once and feeling extra happy at his friend's happiness and care-freeness. He was surprised to find the two getting along and he was beyond happy.

"Glad to see you two getting along," Peter said.

Neal smiled and threw an arm around Cameron. "Yup. Just me and Cam these past days."

"We've been tight," she threw in, still in a silly mood.

Peter smiled.

This was great.

"Hey," Neal asked. "You want to stay for diner? We're ordering Chinese."

Cameron fist pumped the air. "Yes! Chinese!" She turned to smile at Neal and surprisingly gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Neal looked at her in surprise, but she just ignored him like she had done it before. Peter was guessing that this was the first time, though. "Would you stay Peter? Mozzie's coming in late tonight, anyway. Don't leave me with Neal?"

"Hey!" the criminal in question exclaimed, in mock offense, trying to shake off his surprise at her kiss on the cheek.

Peter looked at them and couldn't help but point out the similarities he saw. They not only looked alike, but acted alike. If he didn't know any better and had just chanced across these two as strangers, he'd swear on his life to his wife that they were father and daughter.

But Peter knew better.

Didn't he?

He decided to look into it, just to satisfy his curiosity.

"Yeah, sure. Why not? The wife's gonna be out for the week, mind as well not have diner alone," he answered. Cameron's smile lit up the world. But when Neal saw her happy and his smile joined hers, they lit up the universe.

"I'll call," Neal said as he moved toward the phone.

"And I'll entertain Peter," Cameron said, sarcasm in her voice. "So, you wanna see a trick? I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for a quarter."

Peter laughed. If she was anything like Neal, which he could just tell she was since she had been around him all this time, he wouldn't be getting the quarter back.

He gave it over anyways.

He turned out to be right.

He didn't care.

* * *

**You likey? I likey.**

**Cara: What is this likey?**

**Me: Cara, you need to stop embarrassing yourself.**

**Cara: O.o What?**

**Me: *facepalm* Never mind.**

**Cara: Why do you keep hitting yourself in the face with your hand?**

**Me: *facepalm***

**Cara: *huff* There you go again.**

**Me: *doublefaceplam***

**Cara:There! She did it twice! Heart, your face is getting red. Maybe you should stop doing that.**

**Me: *triplefacepalm***

**Cara: Uh... Heart...?**

**Me: *quadruplefacepalm***

**Cara: O.o Never mind.**

**Review?**


	5. Con The ConMan

**Slight jump here. Sorry. Peeps. And it sucks. Really bad. it's mostly a filler to catch up to the season finale.**

**Cara: Slight blood. It's good enough.**

**Me: there'll be more. And tragedy!**

**Cara: *snort* Can't pass up a good tragedy.**

**ALSO: I will not kill off MOZZIE! I know it looks like he dies in the season finale, but i refuse to kill him and that is how i will keep him alive till the summer.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own WHITE COLLAR. Wish i did. Wish i owned Mat Bomer. Oh yeah. One day. One day.**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

Cameron had been with Neal and Mozzie for four months now. She had become accustomed to their way of life and soon, Neal went back to work cases with the FBI and Cameron was left with Mozzie.

She was told not to disturb him, in that weird way of his, in the beginning, until he found out that she knew the song in the music box by heart. And then, he took a deeper interest in her.

Although she wasn't as close to Mozzie as she had been growing to Neal, she got along with the little man just fine. And together, for hour upon hour before Neal got home, they would pour over the contents of the music box, running ciphers through the tune, trying to untangle the mystery of what it held.

This day, seemed no better.

"I hate this thing," Cameron exclaimed, throwing herself on the couch in frustration. "I wish for once that we'd get somewhere with this crap."

"Language young missy," Mozzie said in return as he played it again.

"Shut it off," Cameron snapped so suddenly that Moz involuntarily did as she had asked. Cameron looked away. "Every time I hear that stupid thing I hear my mother's voice."

Although she was faced away from him, Mozzie could tell she was crying. He sighed. How was he to deal with this? "Well, Cameron, if it makes you feel any better, I know a guy who might be able to get this decoded."

The reaction he got was not what he expected. Instead of excitement, he got anger.

"What? And you've waited all this time? What the hell is wrong with you Moz? We could have found out what it meant and then we would be done with this, we would have caught Fowler by now!" And with that, Cameron clapped both hands over her mouth.

Mozzie tilted his head. "I don't recall Neal telling you about his Fowler Theory."

Cameron looked away and swallowed. "That's because he didn't."

"Then how?"

Cameron bit her lip and Moz had a sudden flash of déjà vu. Neal, doing that when he had done something that he knew would piss Moz off. But, as Cameron spoke, he was quickly snapped back into the present.

She was holding up a little box that looked like a recorder, but he knew it was otherwise. "I sorta… planted a wire on Neal. Sorry?"

Mozzie walked up to the rambunctious teen and snatched it from her hands. "Sorry doesn't cut it." He gazed at the object. "How did you do it?"

She looked a little surprised. "Well, I wired the recorder to a small speaker and the a rewired that to-"

"No, I mean, how did Neal not notice?" Moz had been shaking his head.

She blushed at this one. "I offered to 'fix' his coat a few weeks ago."

Moz squinted. "You mean the one with the hole in it?"

She nodded. "Except…"

Mozzie's eyes widened. "Except you were the one to put a hole in it!"

She nodded. "So when I fixed it, I sewed the microphone in and _vwala_! Instant shortcut into Neal Caffrey's everyday dialogue."

"How has he not noticed?" Moz pondered.

"Well, I'm confident he won't until someone else reveals it to him, I reveal it to him, or he actually goes looking for it. I'm quite good at stitching, and you can't even tell since it's in line with where the sleeve was sewn shut."

Moz shook his head in astonishment. "You conned the con-man."

By this time, Cameron was already familiar with all of Neal's past, even the shady parts. "Yeah. I guess I learned from the best."

"Or it was natural," muttered Moz, thinking along the same lines as Peter had, but not seeing where they made sense.

"What was that?" she asked, since he had mumbled.

"I said, why come clean now?" he covered up.

"Oh." She looked down. "Because I heard what I was looking for."

"And that was…?" Moz said, over exaggerating his words.

"I wanted to know who he suspected killed my mother." The words were delivered so fiercely, so honestly, so frailly, so unstably that Mozzie could only stare at her as she continued. "I had asked Neal, just once. He had told me that it was better that I not know." She shook her head. "But I told Neal I was in." She shrugged. "So I … conned him, as you put it. And now that I've let it slip, I wanted to explain myself."

"So you used me?"

Cameron spun around to see Neal standing in the doorway, wire in his hand, ripped up coat. His eyebrow was up.

Her mouth widened and then, her brow scrunched in anger. "No. I simply did what you would have done, isn't that right Neal?"

At this, he had no answer.

"How'd you even find it anyway?" asked Moz.

"It started to heat up and then Diana spilled her coffee on me and it sparked. I wouldn't have known otherwise." He looked to Cameron. "Although I applaud you, since it takes a special kind of person to con me, that was wrong and I don't-"

"Want me ending up like you," she finished, as a child would a finish a sentence that their parents had been lecturing to them for years. "Yeah. I heard."

Neal's brow creased and Mozzie could feel one of those random fights popping up. Neal and Cameron got into to them from time to time. But since she had started helping Moz on the music box, they had become a lot more frequent.

But, instead, Neal shook his head and said, "Moz, have you gotten anywhere with the music box?"

"No," Cameron answered, sighing and walking over to the table they were working on. She picked up a sheaf of paper and tossed them in the air, letting them float lazily down onto the table. "Nothing." Her voice was hollow.

"You're letting her help?" said Neal, a small level of hysteria in his voice, as he turned to Mozzie.

"Well, uh…"

"Oh, my eavesdropping on his conversations is bad, but you not telling him I'm helping you with this is ok?" Cameron said, standing beside Neal.

"Look you two, I keep things from you to keep you safe and away from the breaking point." Both Neal and Cameron gave him an identical look of confusion. "Neal would get mad that you were helping me and you would get mad if I told you that Neal was planning to give you a birthday party."

"You didn't tell her?" Neal said in surprise.

"You want to give me a birthday, you nut?" Cameron shot back.

Neal shrugged. "I thought we could give it a try."

Cameron shook her head. "No way."

"Funny, you make it seem like you have a choice." She just huffed at this comment.

"You see how it works?" Moz asked. They both grudgingly nodded. "So see? No harm done. Now, back to what I was telling Cam. I know a guy who might be able to decode this baby."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "Lead the way."

* * *

**The Next Day...**

Cameron saw that something was off with Neal as he departed back to the FBI, the next day, leaving her and Mozzie to go to this Chinese what's-his-name guy. She had thought that he would be a bit angrier, a bit stricter with his way of handling her. But he seemed almost… dare she say it, fidgety. Nervous. At debate with himself.

She couldn't understand it.

She turned to Moz in the awkward pawn shop and said, "You notice anything off about Neal?"

"Yeah. You too?"

She nodded back. "He seemed so, I don't know, weirded out."

"Like he was going to do something stupid," Moz said.

"Yeah. Like he was going to do something-"

"Hey you two."

It was Neal. He was in the shop. They had talked about him staying so the FBI wouldn't find it that suspicious that he kept leaving. He was supposed to be at work.

"Wh-what are you doing here Neal?" Cameron stuttered.

But he shrugged nonchalantly. "Thought I'd pop in, see how the-uh- sheet music is going. Any hits?"

Moz shook his head. "We were going to go in, right now." He turned toward the back where an Asian man waited. "You coming guys?"

"Nah," Neal said all too quickly.

"Sure," Cameron said. It was strange. She thought Neal would want to go in. "You don't mind, do you Neal?"

"No, go ahead in. If anyone gets to go in, it's you. Go," he said when she gave him a look. "Don't worry about me."

And so she followed.

And Neal hesitated and took the gun lying there.

And Cameron snuck a look through the crack in the door and saw him tuck it behind his belt and leave.

And she couldn't bring herself to say a word when Moz asked her why she was so pale.

* * *

She knew it was a bad, bad idea. When she left Moz to go home for lunch an hour later and saw the cute little doggy on the floor, Neal's bracelet around his neck, her stomach clenched.

Her first instinct: scream.

She got that out of her system first.

Her second instinct: call Peter.

She took care of that next.

"Peter Burke speaking-"

"Peter, Neal has a gun."

He paused and then said, "Cameron? What are you talking about, Neal's-"

"Not at home. His bracelet is around this dog's neck. God Peter, he has a gun! What were you people telling him down there?" Her tone was almost accusing, certainly panicked.

Peter was silent on the other end and Cameron screamed, "PETER!"

"Alright, sorry. I was talking to Diana. She saw him at a club where Fowler turned up. I'm going in."

At the sound of Fowler's name, her stomach dropped. She didn't know what to do, what to think. If she should be happy that Neal was going after him, if she should be angry or sad or ashamed.

"What do you think he's going to do?" she managed.

"I think he's going to kill him."

And then she made up her mind. "Where is he again?"

Peter told her the address and then said, "Why?"

But the phone was already dead.

"Crap," he said as he raced up the stairs to the building. And then, "NEAL!"

* * *

**Bad-assery At Work...**

Cameron raced across the boulevard. She made her way past cars and around trucks. She lost count of all the times she almost got hit. She didn't even know whether she was going to watch Fowler die or stop Neal from doing it.

She didn't know which was worse.

Cameron finally skidded to a stop at the front door to the club. And then she squealed in frustration. "Seriously?" she mumbled under her breath.

There were people guarding the door and she was fairly sure that you needed some type of password or some common type of crap.

So she was going to do it her way.

"Excuse me?" she said to the man in the suit at the front door. The second he turned around, she delivered a severe chop to his windpipe. He went down with a splutter and as she stormed inside, people looked at her in horror.

"I'm with the FBI," she said. And then, she looked to a man and said, "Seen a tall man, bad haircut, also FBI?"

The man could only point in the direction of a spiraling staircase. She smiled and stole someone's hat as she went up the stairs and tipped it. "Thanks very much."

Neal flew across the crowd below him, singling out Diana in the crowd. It didn't even matter that she was down there. It only mattered that he got into that room, got his answers from that bastard and then shot him right in-between the eyes.

That's all that mattered.

He crashed through the glass and wood, feeling the pain of the shards sting his skin. He felt the pain of the wood test his bones, bruise his flesh. He bared the pain, let all his pent up grief, his pent up rage out.

He landed, crashing into the room and staring at the man who had haunted his dreams. Fowler.

"Why?" was the first thing from his lips.

Fowler though, looked like he had just seen a ghost. "Who are you?"

Neal looked at him in confusion. "Don't play games with me, Fowler! Why!"

And it was only then, with his gun trained on the man in front of him, hands shaking, eyes livid, mind churning, did Neal realize that Fowler wasn't looking at him. He was looking behind him.

Neal involuntarily turned around and came face to face with…

Cameron.

"Hey, Neal. Nice day to kill someone, huh?"

He swallowed and felt a deep sense of shame, of regret, but of total drive. He had Fowler. Not even Cameron, his beloved adoptive daughter, as he thought of her as, could stop this.

"Yes," he said turning back to Fowler, not even caring how she had gotten in there when not even Peter had been able to. Her mom had been smart. He never knew that smart.

He focused his gun on Fowler and said, "I don't care what you have to say. I don't care."

He flicked back the safety on the gun. "Neal don't!"

He turned to look at Cameron, incredulous. "Why not? Cameron, he killed your mother. He killed Kate." Neal's eyes were wild, red and glassy, like he was trying to hold back tears. He was so far gone. Maybe too far gone, Cameron saw.

"You don't know that," she choked out, not even believing her own words. "You-you don't know that Neal."

"I didn't!" Shouted Fowler. "I was set up I swear!"

"Shut up!" both Neal and Cameron exclaimed, though for different reasons.

"You don't believe that," said Neal, his hand and eyes never straying from Fowler.

"I don't," she said in honesty. "I really don't and I want you to blow that bastard's head to pieces, but I know you just can't. I know it's wrong!" She took a deep breath. "So please don't Neal."

At that moment, Peter barged in, about to make a scene, but stopped, seeing Cameron already inside. He would give her a chance.

Cameron took it. She walked up to Neal and took his gun hand, pushing it down and covering it with hers. It was shaking and Neal was crying and she saw that dark shadow she always saw in his eyes come out.

"Please, Neal. Don't do this. I look up to you. I want to be like you, no matter what you think." Peter groaned when he heard this. All they needed was another Neal, this one in girl form and easier to seduce men. "But please don't make the man I look up to a killer." And then she leaned in and whispered something to Neal that made him drop the gun altogether and pull her out and away from the room.

Peter eyed him and he knew he had hell to pay, but it was worth it. They were taken back to FBI HQ and Neal was given another bracelet and they were both told to go home. But Cameron felt something wasn't right. Neal had an arm around her shoulders and told her just to go home with him, but she insisted.

"Something doesn't feel right. Where's Moz?"

"I don't-" Neal froze as Peter called them back.

"They found your picture in that Asian man's security video. He's dead," Peter informed him.

But Neal was already out the door. "I wasn't there alone. And if Cameron's with me…"

"Where's Mozzie?"

* * *

Mozzie never saw it coming. The man, the gun, the bullet. Nothing. He just felt the pain that consumed him, felt his voice fail, felt everything melt away.

And the code. He had cracked the code and now that was gone too.

And so was he.

* * *

**I refuse to kill him.**

**Cara: Why not?**

**Me: Check your tone missy! Don't whine with me!**

**Cara: *grumblegrumble* soorry... **

**Me: Did you just apologize? O.o**

**Cara: *fidgetfidget* ...maybe...**

**Me: OMN! THAT IS AMAZING! **

***looks to cara***

**Me: Cara, you get a free shot at whoever you want.**

**Cara: *brightens* Anyone?**

**Me: *nodnodnods* Except me.**

**Cara: *devil smile* Oh Jace...**

***leaves***

**Jace: *from far away* Oh hi Cara, what's-**

***screams in pain***

**Jace: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! What was that for?**

**Cara: *giggle***

**Jace: Did you just giggle? O.o**

**cara: *skips away***

**Jace: *turns to me* Did she just skip? **

**Me: O.O**

**REVIEW?**


	6. Juat A Hunch

**Kays Guys. You can kill me now. i give you a free shot. I haven't updated in a life time. Literally. But i'm here now.**

**Cara: *nodnodnod* She is.**

**Me: OH! I have two new character captives i would like you all to meet.**

***produces Dean Winchester and Castiel, Angel of the Lord, from 'Supernatural'***

**Me: *SQUEEE***

**Cara:O.o What was that?**

**Me: I squeed.**

**Cara: O.o Oh.**

**Dean: Hey. i'm Dean WInchester.**

**Cas: I am Castiel, ANgel of the Lord.**

**Cara: What's an angel?**

**Cas: Uh... I am one of God's messengers.**

**Cara: O.o What's a 'God'?**

**Cas: *nervously* Uh... he is the creator of life and ehaven and earth and-**

**Cara: OH! The Creator! You're a messenger for the CREATOR! that makes sense. For a moment there.. *PHEW!* I thought you served the Keeper.**

**Dean: O.o**

**Cas: O.o What's a 'Keeper'?**

**Cara: *confused* Umm... well, he is evil and makes you're lif a a living hell and-**

**Cas: *epiphany moment* OH! You mean the DEvil, Lucipher? ha ha! I could never serve my brother.**

**Cara: *WTF face* you're brother is the keeper, but you serve the Creator?**

**Cas: *nodnodnod* The Creator is my father.**

**Cara: *WTF face* The Creator is your father? The creator is a man? *confused* Are we talking about the same Creator here?**

**Dean: *WTF face* There's more than one?**

**Cas: I am confused. Nevermind that. who are you?**

**Cara: I am mistress Cara. *brandishes agiel* A Sister of the Agiel, a Mord Sith.**

**Dean: What's a Mord SIth? *giggles at agiel* And what's with the dildo of doom? Planning on fuc- **

**Cara: *thrusts agiel into his chest***

**Dean: *in obvious pain* !AAAGAAGH! **

***passes out on the floor***

**Cas:O.O WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DEAN!**

**Cara: You're Dean? *lightbulb goes off* OOOHHHH You two are...?**

**Cas: *angry* Problem?**

**Cara: Nope, I have a woman lover. Her names Kah-**

**Me: Enough! Cas, fix Dean. Cara, go away and bug Jace. if he complains, tell him i told him to shut up and contiue.**

**Cara: *poofs away***

**Cas: *stroking Dean's face* What has she done to him?**

**Me: That was her ag****iel, basically a stick of pain. He probably has a few cracked ribs, the idiot. *snicker* the look on his face!**

**Cas: *snicker* Yeah.**

***goes to fix Dean***

**Me: Well that was entertaining!**

**DISCLAIMER!: Sorry the AN was SOOOOOO long! I don't own White Collar! i want to! But I don't! I totally own CAMERON though!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Cameron was literally pulling her hair out as she made her way down the hall. The whole place smelled like antiseptic and sick people.

She hated hospitals.

But she was risking it all now, her fear, her disgust. She was doing it all for someone she cared about. She was doing it all to give herself some closure. She was doing it for everyone.

She was doing it for Moz.

Her throat closed up as she ran down the hall, scanning the doors for the number to his room. They all looked like blurs running into each other. Behind her, she could hear the raggedly nervous breaths of Neal as he raced after her, not bothering to tell her to slow down. He wanted to get to the room just as bad as she did.

Cameron felt a stupid, traitorous tear rub down her cheek as she recalled the call they had gotten. They had found Moz.

Shot.

In the chest.

Neal had just gone still, unable to move and she had broken down into tears. He was having emergency surgery. And then something had gone horribly wrong. He had stopped breathing, his heart ceasing its beating. They had brought him back, but…

He hadn't woken up from the anesthetic.

They had thought that it was just because he was heavily drugged, but, when he should have woken up and then a few days later, they had run tests.

And now Moz was in a coma.

They had no idea how it happened. Something about the surgery and his near-death and blah, blah, blah. She didn't care, neither did Neal. And now they were going to see him.

Again.

They had come every day now, even though they should have been looking into getting her enrolled into school. They had put that off completely. Moz was now a lot more important that her education. And if she had to repeat a year? Who cares? she thought. This is Moz.

My Mozzie.

She blinked back more tears as she finally found the familiar hallway, found that light, sickly, pale blue door and threw it open to find…

Moz. Looking sickly and pale and dead as a machine breathed for him. Several screens blinked and beeped and he was all wired up. She hated it, of course. Hated seeing him like a doll, limp and unmoving, not really alive, just kept on the cusp of death.

"I hate this," she sniffled. Three weeks. Three weeks he had been like this and it was scaring her. She hated it. Hated to show this kind of weakness, hated the way it made her feel, hated how she sometimes wanted to talk to no one.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Neal, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he bit back the tears that she knew he wanted to shed for his closest friend. "I know. I hate it too."

She turned to him and settled into the comfortable bulk of his chest, letting his strong arms enclose her in their warmth. She buried her face into his chest and hugged him back. This had been something of a regular thing between them. They hugged a lot now and he was always comforting her, even when she should have been comforting him.

"Why doesn't he just wake up?" the sixteen year old mumbled against his chest.

Neal sighed. He hated to see her like this. She was almost always holding onto him now or holding his hand or leaning into him, hugging him. She needed someone and that was what he was giving to her.

He shuddered as he held her closer and thought of their first day here. They had been watching the operation and then… everything had gone wrong. And she had freaked out. At first, as the beep droned on, she had stared in wide-eyed shock. But then, hysteria had set in and she had started screaming, her eyes rolling at the sight of blood and death. It had been horrible. She had kept screaming, "_**Save him! Why won't you save him?**_"

And Neal's heart had broken. Broken into a million pieces because the little girl who had said she loved him was in so much pain.

And she had said it. Just before he knew he was going to kill Fowler she had whispered it to him. She had told him she loved him., loved him like he was her own father, that he was as close as it got and Neal hadn't been able to throw that kind of life away.

In that instant, he had planned their life. She's start school in New York, he'd adopt her. He'd keep her safe until they caught whoever was trying to kill her. And then they had found Moz and that had all been dashed to pieces. All gone because they were grief stricken and now the both of them were being sought out to be assassinated.

And now she was asking him the most innocent question he had ever heard her ask.

_Why doesn't he just wake up? _

Neal sighed. "I don't Cam," he said into her hair. Her birthday, he recalled, was in a few months now. And if Moz hadn't woken up by then….He didn't know what he would do.

She sighed and turned a little to stare at the still figure in the bed and her face changed to one of horror. He knew she hated seeing him like that, like he was nothing but a rag-doll. He hated to see her upset.

"Don't look Cameron," he whispered gently. She obeyed. Neal took in a deep breath and said, "Well, how about we go get some lunch? I'm pretty starved. How 'bout you?"

He knew she didn't want to leave, that she probably wasn't very hungry, but she sighed and said, "Yeah, me too." Neal knew it was a lie. But the fact that she was being an adult about this, that she knew that if she didn't take a break from all the pain that it would drive her crazy, made him proud.

"Let's get out of here, champ," he murmured affectionately as he led her from the room.

Before they left it completely, she turned at the door and gave a small salute in Moz's direction. "See ya, Moz."

They left the hospital and walked down the street to a little diner. It was quiet, since most adults were at work. It reminded Neal that Peter had given him what he called a 'grief-trip'. It was as close to a vacation as he allowed, one that allowed Neal to grieve for his friend. It also gave him more time with Cameron and, if he wasn't around, she would be alone and that was unacceptable.

They got a booth in the corner, ordered (both asked for the same salad and drink at the same time, producing the same faint grin on both faces, making the waitress think they were father and daughter, they were so alike) and when their food came, they ate quietly.

Neal knew better than to start asking how she was handling it. He knew it was hard for her. Hell, it was hard for him! He couldn't imagine how it felt for a teenager to be so close to losing someone she had just gotten close to after losing a parent.

At that thought, it led Neal to her parents. Her mother was Kate, that was obvious. But her father… he sighed to himself. Her father was an art dealer, who, probably didn't even know about her, the poor sucker. He was missing out on a lot, though. She was a great kid, moody, but that was to be expected. She smiled at him from across the table, snapping him out of his reverie. He reached across and put his hand over hers, almost flinching at the iciness of her fingers.

He squeezed them, trying to get a little warmth back in them and she squeezed back, more for comfort than anything else.

They ate in silence. Neal then paid and they left, walking back to the hospital. He was surprised to find Peter there, sitting in the waiting room. When he looked up and saw them, he waved them over. Both Neal and Cameron got a little nervous. Neal wondered if he was back to get him back to work, Cameron thinking the same, and neither wanting him to go.

But Peter just smiled and spread his hands when they were close enough, saying, "Don't worry, you two. You get to keep Neal for a little while longer." Neal smiled and Cameron sighed in relief. "I just came to see the Moz-Man. Mind showing me the way?"

Although this was only the second time that Peter had been to the hospital to see Mozzie, neither Neal nor Cameron held it against him. They both were content in knowing that the killer had been in league with whomever was shooting at Cameron the first day they met and that the team was trying to find out who that was exactly.

Peter was helping them by just doing his job.

They led him to the room and Peter couldn't help noticing how close they seemed, one barely a foot away from the other. But it looked right. They looked like they belonged like that. As they walked into the room, the two sat down on the low couch, slumped against each other as Peter walked to the bed, a hand on his chin as he looked at a still, barely living Moz.

He shook his head, silently saying a prayer in his head for Moz. It was unlike him, yes, but he was doing it for Moz. It was worth it.

He turned to find a most surprising sight. Neal had an arm around Cameron and she was snuggled to his side, like a child would do a parent. Her eyes seemed to be drooping and then, fell altogether. A few moments later, her breathing had evened out and Neal was gently getting up and arranging her more comfortably on the low couch. He got a blanket from one of the cabinets and covered her, making sure her head was propped up on a pillow.

Peter stood in shock. He had never, not even once, seen Neal act with so much… tenderness, so much gentleness. It was un-Neal-like. Very un-Neal-like.

Neal stepped back, satisfied and smiled a little before turning to Peter. At the look he was giving him, a slow and steady blush made its way up his neck. "What?" he asked innocently, although he was fidgeting.

"Nothing," Peter answered immediately, shaking his head slowly. "You just… you're so patient with her. I'm proud of you Neal."

Neal rolled his eyes in the way that he did and snorted. "Well, you would too if you had to deal with a moody sixteen and a half year old on her period every single month." Peter smirked when he noticed that Neal didn't say it with malice but with… affection.

"Is it all that bad?"

Neal surprised him now, more than ever. "No."

Peter asked cautiously then, "Is it worth it?"

Neal nodded slowly. "Yeah. Every second of it."

Peter nodded as he walked over to Neal and saw that something had changed in the man in front of him. He had this soft look about him and Peter had a feeling that it was a good softness.

"You care about her."

Neal's head napped up and he looked Peter in the eyes. "Yeah. I do." He gave something between a snort and laugh. "How can I not? She's-"

"Kate's," Peter finished.

Neal nodded. "It's not just that, though. She's a really good kid. Smart, which reminds me about the whole school thing…"

Peter nodded. "We'll take care of that a little later. Let her deal with this first."

Neal nodded in agreement. "I know. But she hasn't even been sleeping well, which is why she's totally dead to the world right now. I swear she had nightmares that she doesn't tell me about. I don't blame her." He shook his head sadly, worriedly.

"So, she's good to be around?" Peter asked, trying to steer the conversation toward more happy things.

Neal knew a subject change when he saw one and was slightly relieved. "She's so… witty," Neal continued. "Cunning." He smiled proudly, like a cunning sixteen year old that could probably cheat you out of your lifesavings was a good thing.

Peter said, while raising an eyebrow, "Kind of like you?"

And Neal, not even seeing the symbolism in that nodded like it was no big deal. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. Although I am devilishly handsome along with it." He cracked a half-hearted smile and Peter gave him one in return.

"Well," Peter said, trying to make up an excuse to get back to HQ since there was something he really needed to do now, "I gotta go Neal. There is no rest for the wicked, as you already know."

"It's 'cause I am wicked," Neal said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yes. Of course. Anyway," he continued, "watch her. Watch Moz. If anything… happens, don't you dare hesitate to call."

Neal gave another snort/chuckle/cough and said, "Geez, Peter. I'm not a kid. I can handle myself." But there was a little spark in his eye, a fear, a part of him that was silently thanking God that Peter was around, because sometimes, he couldn't handle himself. His breakdown with Fowler proved that.

Peter was slowly making a plan in his head when he saw a water bottle on the small table next to where Cameron was sleeping. "Who's is this?"

"Cam's. Why?" Neal answered, not reading into it.

"Oh," Peter said, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. "I'll throw it out then."

Neal just nodded.

Peter quickly said his goodbye and waved as he walked past the room's window. He found it slightly unnerving how much Cameron looked like Neal when she was asleep and less animated. Her left eyebrow also did that little twitch thing that Neal's did.

And now, he was going to find out exactly what was going on. As he walked out of the hospital, he clutched the water bottle to his chest.

And completely ignored the trashcan.

* * *

Peter burst through the doors of his workspace. He needed to find Diana and he needed to find her now. AS if she had been reading his mind, the bisexual **(right cause she has a girlfriend. Or is she just lesbian? I don't know, so don't sue me! :D) **Hispanic **(is she even Hispanic? Oh well)** woman appeared out of nowhere and asked, "What is it?"

Peter thrust the water bottle at her, chastising when she almost touched the rim. "Give that to Jones. Tell him send that to Ballistics. Have them compare it to Neal's DNA."

She scrunched her brow, following him as he moved about the open space, navigating to his office. "Why?"

Peter looked at her and said, "Just do it, please?"

She nodded, catching a walking Jones by the shoulder and whispering quiet instructions into his ear. He nodded without so much as a blink or response and walked off, the water bottle in hand. He stopped a little ways after and bagged it in an evidence bag. And then he headed to Ballistics.

Meanwhile, Peter sat Diana down at his desk and said to her, "Get me everything and anything you can on Cameron Moreau. _Anything. Everything._ Do you understand me?"

Diana, surprised as ever, nodded. "Yeah. I got it. Is there any particular reason you're so interested?"

Peter looked out the window, his eyes tracing every line of every building. "Let's just say it's a hunch."

* * *

**Since my opener was so long, i'll keep this short.**

**You guys likey?**

**Cara: *Shrug* There was a minimal amount of blood and terror. *fangirlmoment* IT WAS AMAZING!**

**Me: O.o Kay. *urns to boys*Boys?**

**Cas: It was very touching.**

**Dean:*snort* Puh-lease. I's obvious that that guy is her-MMPHMPH! *GAG***

*** me sticking a sock down Dean's throat while Cara looks on in approval and Cas in horror***

**Me: DONA"T YOU EVER REVEAL THE PLOT TO ONE OF MY FICS AGIN DEAN WINCHESTER OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BURN THE IMPALA RIGTH IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES!**

**REVIEW?**


	7. She's A Caffrey

**More HTO crack for you and you and you... oh and you! This chapter is dedicated to my sister, Lex Leto. She was so excited to see this made she almost had a poop attack! Well, anyways...**

**Oh and she had the idea of kidnapping Dean, so... yeah. But she was unaware that Dean and my Cas are a package, so SHHHH! Don't tell her! She IS NOT a Destiel supporter, but don't hold htat against her! Thanks!**

**Cara: Lex Leto. That is a strange name.**

**Me: Tell me about it. My mother names my sister lex, you think i'd be the one to get a normal name. But nope. She calls me Muse. **

**Cara: What is so bad about that?**

**Me: My mother named me after a word that means 'the source of an artists inspiration'. And now it's a band and people think it's necassary to ask me if that's where my name came from.**

**Cara:O.o**

**Me: Nevermind.**

**For those of you who know what i'm talking about, have pity on me. The name Muse Nicolei (my middle name is pronounced Ni-col-eye) is not normal. Seriously.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don;t own White Collar. Only the OC (since there's only one) and the plot, which is AWESOME! **

**So enjoy!**

* * *

For the next couple of days, Diana dug and dug and dug. But there was a problem. A big one. One that she had to call Peter in for.

"What?" Peter said in astonishment and excitement.

"You heard right. Cameron Moreau doesn't exist. She just doesn't. I traced her back to her school, but a lot of the stuff there was forged. None of it was real."

Peter thought and thought and thought. And then: "No," he gasped. "it couldn't be… but maybe…?"

Diana looked at him in confusion and asked, "Couldn't be what?"

Peter looked at him with such resolve in her eyes that Diana knew instantly that she wasn't going to like what she heard. So she braced herself.

"Type in Cameron Caffrey," Peter said.

Diana blanched. What was Peter saying? "What are you implying?" she croaked.

"Exactly what I'm saying. Try Cameron Caffrey."

Diana started for the keyboard when her head snapped up. "That water bottle… it was Cameron's, wasn't it?"

Peter nodded. "And Jones should have the results any day now. Although, if this works, we might not need it."

"A DNA test is always best, Peter," Diana pointed out.

He nodded. "I know. Just do it, Di."

And so, Diana slowly typed in the new name into her computer. She hesitantly reached for the 'Enter' button and was relieved when Peter helped her push it down. For a moment, there was nothing on the screen, just a swirling circle as it processed the name. And then…

Diana inhaled sharply as several things popped up at once. One was an Elementary School Certificate, another was a hospital bill from when she had been in the hospital from when she was eight.

And then, there was a birth certificate.

She went to that one first and straightaway. Diana and Peter's eyes flew over the page, soaking in every detail of information and when they got to the line that had the father's name on it, both gasped.

Diana looked to Peter. "Peter… what are we going to do?"

He shook his head. "Nothing until we get the res-"

At that moment, Jones walked in, looking a little shaken. He was a good agent and wouldn't have opened the file in any other case. But this was Neal. And he had looked at the results. And he had thought that maybe he was going crazy.

"Peter, you have to look at this."Jones flung the file onto the desk in front of them. He and Diana's eyes were glued to it.

And then, they each snatched at it, almost arguing. They would have, but Jones had snatched it back and opened it. He held it up for the two of them to see. "If this is correct, and it is because I had them quadruple check it four times, then this means…."

They all looked at each other, knowing that Cameron was someone that a lot of people wanted to get their hands on. They realized now that it wasn't just because of Kate.

It was because of Neal.

"We're going to have to tell them," Diana said, slowly getting up and sneaking to the door.

"Yeah," Peter said, his eyes still glued to the DNA test. He didn't see it when Jones quickly followed Diana out.

His only warning was when Diana said, "Good luck Peter!" and slammed his office door closed.

Peter swore silently to himself. Great.

How was he supposed to do this?

Why him?

* * *

It was midnight, Neal knew that much for certain in his dream. He slept with a fitful toss and turn, never able to stay still. It was horrible.

He was dreaming of Kate, dreaming of the day she died. He saw the plane explode, just as he was about to tell Peter that he didn't want to run anymore. He felt the pain of the shockwave all over again. He felt the pain that Kate was dead all over again. But this time, he heard screaming. Kate screaming. It was terrifying, the sheer terror in her voice as she wailed.

But wait… was it Kate? The scream sounded younger, almost. Younger and slightly different, with a tone he was somehow familiar with…

And then, Cameron was in front of him, screaming. And then she blew up.

Neal bolted upright in his bed as wind and rain pummeled the window outside. He was sweating and breathing heavy and his head hurt. He dropped it onto his hands and sat there for a moment before he realized something.

Someone was screaming.

At first, he thought it was still the remnants from his dream, but after a while, they broke to the sound of sobbing. Neal was a bit confused. The only other person in the house besides him was…

Cameron.

Neal jumped out of bed as quickly as possible and scrambled out of his room and down the hall. He groggily made his way to her room. When he was outside of it he listened and now he really heard her. She was crying, crying so hard that she was coughing.

Neal threw open her door, worry filling his whole being. And there she was, sitting up in bed, tears running down her face, dripping off her chin and falling to the bed sheet.

Somehow, Neal knew it wasn't the lightning and rain that was scaring her.

She looked up at the sound of her door opening and, although no words passed between them, Neal knew she needed someone right now. He rushed over to her side and sat on the edge of her bed. Instead of just staying where she was, she leaned into Neal and cried, literally screaming in anguish.

He wrapped his arms around her shaking body and rubbed her back as she wailed against him and sobbed to her heart's content. Neal's own heart was hurting, ripping up into pieces as she cried into his chest, wetting his whole shirt. But he could always just change.

After what seemed like a lifetime, she slowed down and just held onto him, literally wrapped up in his arms like a caterpillar in a cocoon. She snuggled close to him and, although she was still shaking, she seemed a whole lot better than she had been before.

"Cam," he whispered into her ear as she just clung to him. "Baby, what happened?" Neal would have stopped himself if he had thought of his words. But he didn't. He didn't want to give her hopes that she would be with him forever, but she needed comfort. And this was all he could give her. So if he had to use pet names and touchy-feely-ness, then so be it.

He really didn't mind and meant every word.

He considered her his baby.

She started shaking her head and when she spoke, she hiccupped in between her words, and although it was a serious and sad time, Neal had to admit that it was sort of cute and tried to hide his smile, glad that the room was dark.

"I-I dr-dreamed of-of her. M-my mom-my," she stuttered out.

"And?"

She started crying again. "And she died! She died all over again, but I could see it! And I cou-couldn't stop it! And then- then M-m-mozz d-died and-and there was blood-a-and…" She trailed off and clung to him, shaking slightly.

Neal found it ironic that they both had nightmares about the same things. But she wasn't done, as he soon found out. "And then… and then you left." She squeezed her eyes closed and shook a little. "You left me all alone to deal with it all!" She cried some more, unable to stop herself. "That was-was the scariest part." She looked up at him now, her bright blue eyes red-rimmed and glassy. "D-don't ever leave Neal. Please don't leave me alone."

Neal tightened his arms around her and said, said and meant with all his heart, "I will never leave you Cameron. Do you hear me? Never. Not even when you want me to." He felt her shake, but this time, it was because she was laughing. "Good."

She snuggled into him more and got a lot more comfortable than Neal expected she should have. But then, he really didn't want to move. She was falling asleep… _in his arms. _He felt, more than saw, her eyes shut and then, a faint whisper in the night:

"I love you, Neal…"

And then she was asleep. Her breathing evened out and her whole body went soft in his arms. Neal got her lying down on her bed, but then, unable to resist and afraid that she would wake up and freak out, Neal got under the covers with her and wrapped her in a hug. She squirmed closer to his chest and gave an involuntary sigh of content as she slept.

Neal gave one himself and found himself wondering when he had gotten so close to the young teen.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered into the night, to no one in particular.

As sleep took him, he thought he heard a voice whisper back, "I know, Neal. I know."

* * *

Neal awoke to the smell of coffee and… was that bacon? How the hell did he smell bacon? He hadn't gone grocery shopping in forever; it was Moz who usually did that. At the thought of his comatose friend, his throat closed and he opened his eyes.

To find himself alone.

The space in the bed beside him was empty and a pair of flannel pajamas were folded at the edge of the bed. He got up and walked to the door, following his nose to the kitchen where an amazing sight beheld him.

Cameron was bustling about, in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, cooking breakfast and brewing coffee. The only thing he could think to say was, "Since when did you learn how to use the coffee machine?"

She turned, slightly started and then, smiled. Walking up to him and planting a small kiss on his cheek, she said, "Good morning Neal." And then, "You need to shave Neal. Your face is like sandpaper." She made shooing motions as he began to protest, confused as all hell. "Go, go. Go get ready and come get breakfast. And don't forget to shave!" she yelled as he walked down the hall and into his room to grab a pair of clothes.

He simple took a black tee and a pair of soft blue jeans with a few holes in the knees. And then he headed for the bathroom. After taking a rejuvenating shower, changing into a fresh new pair of clothes and, of course, shaving (he really had been scruffy, more so than he, and apparently Cameron, really liked), he felt a lot better, a whole lot more awake.

Neal made his way to kitchen and found that the table was already set and that two mugs of coffee were waiting on the counter. He brought those, along with some sugar and cream, to the table and saw Cameron already sitting there.

"Morning," she said, awfully cheerful.

"Morning to you too. What had you up and about?"

She smiled. "Life. Have some breakfast. I busted my ass making this crap for you."

Neal chuckled and ate his meal, finding that Moz had passed down his finesse cooking to her. He must have been teaching her more than how to decode music notes while Neal was at 'work'.

"Seriously. What's with the Early Bird Special?" he asked, actually curious. If she was buttering him up to ask him something, he was definitely ready for it now.

"Honestly? Nothing. I just… wanted to say thank you for staying with me last night. I needed someone Neal." She shrugged, but he could see a fine little blush settle on her face as she spoke, and he realized that it really meant a lot to her.

"Hey," he said and she looked up. "That's what I'm here for." It was his turn to smile and shrug.

She beamed at him. "Thanks." Neal was about to go back to finishing his food when she continued and said, "Oh and Peter called. He wanted to talk to you. I don't know what it was about, but he sounded pretty nervous."

Neal finished his coffee and put the cup in the sink while saying, "Nervous? That's weird. You mind if I head down there?"

She shook her head, getting up herself and grabbing her roller blades. "Nah. Go ahead. I'm gonna go see Mozzie."

Neal froze. She was going to go see Moz… alone? "Are you sure?" he asked gently.

She looked at him like he was crazy and said, "Of course. Don't worry you're pretty little head off. I'll be fine."

There was a moment of silence, which Neal broke by saying, "So you admit I'm pretty? Finally!" Cameron rolled her eyes. "Go on, laugh. I know you want to."

At this, she finally cracked and burst out laughing. Neal chuckled and went for the door, kissing her forehead on the way out and saying behind him, "Bye, Cam!"

"Bye Da-Neal!" she threw back as he made his way down the steps and out the door.

But all Neal could think as he was walking was….

Did she just call me dad?

* * *

Neal was still a little dazed when he made it to Peter. He walked through the doors and Diana was the first person he saw. "Hey, Diana!"

She turned and for some reason got really pale. Neal looked behind him to see if there was someone behind him that was freaking her out, but there was no one significant. "You ok, Di?"

"Um.. yeah. I'm fine. What's up Neal?"

"Peter called while I was asleep and Cam said he wanted to talk to me. You know where he is?" Now Diana was really pale. "Hey," he said, trying to break the ice, "I know I'm good looking but the staring is a little bit much."

She shook her head and gave him a reprimanding smile. "He's in the interrogation room." As Neal nodded his thanks and left, she muttered, "Good luck Caffrey. What the hell? Good luck Peter."

And then she walked to go get Jones.

They might have a need for him in a few minutes.

* * *

Neal smiled when he saw Peter sitting in the interrogation room. Peter was nervous, just the look on his face screamed it alone! It was great. Neal started planning how he would use it to his advantage when he saw the serious gleam in Peter's eyes. His plans stopped short and he walked in slightly confused.

"Neal," Peter said as he walked in. "Have a seat."

Neal sat in the chair across from him. "Is there something wrong Peter?" Neal suddenly got a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Peter?"

"How do I say this to him?" peter was muttering under his breath, over and over. He finally looked to Neal's worried face. "Neal… you have to promise me that when I tell you what I need to tell you that you won't do anything stupid." Neal sat staring forward. "Neal!"

He blinked and looked to Peter, nodding. "Yeah. Ok. What is it?"

Peter sighed. "It's-it's about Cameron…."

Neal's heart clenched. Oh no. "What about her?"

"We…we found her dad."

Neal's world fell apart after that. No, no, no. They couldn't be taking her away from him. How was he supposed to live? How?

"Neal? Neal. Neal!"

Neal's head snapped up. "Yeah?"

Peter sighed. "Let me get this all out Neal." The younger man nodded. "We found her dad and… and he wants to see her."

Neal's mouth dropped open. He wanted to scream, yell, do something. But he couldn't. He just stared in openmouthed stupefaction, silently dying on the inside. "He wants to see her?" Peter nodded. "Where the hell has the bastard been this whole time? Where?" Neal felt rage now. A deep dark jealous rage, one he didn't like very much.

"He didn't even know she existed Neal. He only recently found out." Peter was looking a bit anxious to get on with whatever else he had to tell Neal.

Neal shook his head. "That's no excuse." It sounded stupid to him even. Suddenly, Neal asked, "Can I meet him?"

Peter got his look of absolute fear in his eyes. "Well, the thing is Neal…" He took a shaky breath. "You already know him. Pretty well actually." Neal had no idea what he was talking about, no idea whatsoever.

"Peter, I don't understand. What are you-"

"You're practically the same person," Peter continued, ignoring Neal's complaint and putting emphasis in all the right places in the phrase. He only hoped Neal got the message, because he couldn't say it without bursting.

But Neal got it. Neal more than got it. He was paralyzed when he got it.

"No," he whispered. "No."

Peter felt a wave of relief hit him. "It's true. Here." Peter handed him a file and Neal woodenly opened it. Inside was a birth certificate that had Kate's name, his name and Cameron's name on it. Except it was different. Cameron's name wasn't the way he knew it. It wasn't Cameron Moreau. It was Cameron Phoenix _Caffrey._ She was a Caffrey.

She was a Caffrey.

And most importantly, she was his.

"I-uh…" He could barely speak. Then, Peter handed him another piece of paper from the file and Neal's eyes widened. "What the hell Peter?" It was a DNA test. Peter had tested his DNA, that was already in the system from his arrest, to Cameron's DNA. The test was, of course, positive, the similarities between them, described as parent to child, making him her father. "Where the hell did you even get her…?" Neal got a weird look on his face. "Her water bottle? You used her water bottle?"

He wasn't really mad as much as hurt that Peter had used him. And Peter knew. "Neal, I'm sorry. But I had to know. I'm sorry, I-"

"No, it's-I'm fine. I'm… would it be weird if I said relieved?"

Peter shook his head. "No. Not at all."

Neal just stared for a while, stared at the papers, stared at all the information they had on her, how every single piece of paper had her name with his last name. No, _their_ last name.

At that moment, all he wanted to do was hug her and tell her and be able to call her his… his _daughter._

Because now she really was his baby. His baby.

"That's why she left," Neal then realized. That was why Kate had left all those years. She was… pregnant. She had been pregnant with _their_ baby, with Cameron. And she had asked about baby names so randomly that day because of this. She had left because of this. And the whole art dealer thing? She was playing on words, on what he used to do. Of course, he was a scam artist, but she had never told her daughter that.

And then…

She was going to tell him. She was going to tell him the day she died, tell him that they had a daughter, that that was where they were going.

Neal tried to think of what his life would be if Kate had told them when they were teenagers. He would have definitely taken the responsibility that was for certain. He would have gotten a good job and he would have helped raise Cameron. They would probably still be back in hometown then, and Cameron would be going to school there. She would be used to Neal and his antics and he hers. And they would both have Kate and her loving words and deep care. They would be happy. Kate would be alive. He wouldn't have met Peter, never have gotten in with the FBI.

Neal shook his head. No. That was not how it would turn out. And he didn't want to know now that he thought of it. That future might actually be worse than the one he was living. And anyways, the happy one wasn't meant to be. This hard life of pain and torture was what was destined for him and his… daughter.

With that thought, Neal got up and charged at Peter. The older man froze in complete surprise and almost had a heart attack when Neal _hugged_ him in an honest-to-God real hug. "Thank you," he said around the lump of cotton in his throat.

Peter surprisingly hugged him back. "I got your back Neal. Always."

Neal hugged him a little tighter and for some reason was reminded of the father he never really had. Peter had been more of a father to him than anyone and, although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he liked it and was happy that someone had finally filled that role in his life, even if it was twenty years late.

Peter was thinking much the same thing, how he never had kids, but how Neal was as close as he would be getting. And he really didn't mind.

Besides, he could really use some grandkids.

They separated, only slightly awkward and said their goodbyes. Peter was going to look into the shootings and Neal was going to go home and tell his… daughter that she was his.

And that's exactly what he did.

* * *

Neal rushed into the house and then remembered that Cameron had said that she was going to go to see Moz. But when he strained to listen, he heard her in the kitchen, probably using her new Kung-Fu Cooking Skills to make lunch. She was also expecting him, since the table was already set.

But Neal wanted to have lunch as a family and that meant that he had to tell her.

Now.

"I'm home," he called as he walked in and put his coat up on a peg on his coat hanger.

"Kitchen!" she yelled and he heard something fall and the tell tale signs that the f-bomb had been dropped.

He walked into the kitchen to see her picking a cup that clearly had held something saucy in it out of the sink where it had most likely fallen. "Crap," she muttered as she went to a cabinet to get whatever it was she needed.

"I've got it," Neal said, getting there before her and getting the sauce out for her.

She smiled and he now realized it was the same smile he had when it was genuine. She had the same shade of hair and her eyes were the same type of blue. Her nose had that little turn and her eyebrow was doing that twitch thing that his did. He watched in awed fascination as she cooked, picking out all the similarities and loving how much she was like him. He wondered if she thought that it was weird that he was staring.

Apparently she did. "Neal, are you ok? What did Peter want?" She asked this as she diced some onions and sprinkled them into the sauce she had warming up on the stove.

He snapped out of his reverie and immediately got nervous. How was he going to tell her this without freaking her out or getting her angry? He began to understand why Peter had been so nervous.

He decided to go with Peter's approach. "They found your father," he whispered.

She dropped the spoon in her hand and as it hit the floor with a bang her eyes met his. "What?"

He sighed. Maybe he would have to take it a bit more slowly. "Peter and the team, they found your dad."

She swallowed and said, "Wh-why?"

Neal raised an eyebrow and said, "Isn't it obvious? He wants to see you. He never even knew you existed until recently, so he wants to see you with his own two eyes and hug you with his own two arms."

She looked hysteric and Neal immediately regretted telling her this way. "Why? What if-what if I don't want to see him? Who is he? Neal, who is he?" Her voice was cracking and she sounded panicked.

Neal walked over to her and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Relax," he said, soothingly and she did. "How was Moz?" he suddenly asked, like it was more important than what they were talking about.

"He's still the same. Neal who is he?" She pulled away, tears threatening to fall. He was surprised that he could tell just before the water works were going to come. He guessed that parents just knew those things. He smiled. He was a parent! "Neal! It's not funny! Who is he?" And then the tears started to fall.

"Oh, Cameron, don't cry. Its fine, it'll be fine." He hugged her and then said, "You already know him, Cam."

She sniffled. "I don't want to meet him Neal. I don't."

"You already have," Neal said with a smirk.

He was itching to just tell her, to get past this. But he let her look on in confusion. It would all be clear in a second. "Who?"

Neal took a deep breath. "Don't be mad when I tell you, ok?" She nodded, total fear on her face. "Me." Neal had his eyes closed then. He couldn't bare it to see the anger he knew would be there.

Then, he somehow found the courage to open his eyes and burst out laughing. _Her face. _It was shocked, happy and unbelieving all in the same instant. And then, she cut him off mid-laugh with a bone crushing hug and more tears and a small laugh and the weak words of, "I will kill you if you're lying."

Neal hugged her back, overwhelmed by all the feeling she was having now. He brought her to the living room where he gave her the papers and her face lighted with surprise and happiness. "My real name is Caffrey?" Neal nodded. "Oh my God!" She hugged him again and didn't want to let go. When they separated, Neal thought he was going to cry. He was surprised since he was never really the emotional type. "Now what?" she asked.

"Now you're mine. Utterly and totally mine, Cameron. You are my… daughter. And I'm never going to give that up. I've missed you for sixteen years. I'm gonna stick around for the rest of your life." He winked then. "Whether you want me to or not."

Her lower lip trembled and Neal counted down mentally. 3, 2, 1…

She cried out and hugged him again, crying again.

"I love you daddy," she muttered against his chest without hesitation.

"I love you Cameron Phoenix _Caffrey_." He put extra emphasis on her new last name.

She grimaced. "I hate my middle name."

"Even though I picked it out?"

She looked up. "You did?" he nodded. "Of course you did." She shook her head and said, "And how the hell did neither of us piece this together? The two smartest people in New York. We are so sad."

"No," Neal said. "The sad part is that the two smartest people in New York are related to each other and we're father and daughter and we manage to use our smarts for scamming. At least I do. Erm… did."

She laughed at this and said, "No. We both do. Um… did." He smiled.

"Cameron Caffrey. I like it."

"So many C's though," she pointed out.

But then Neal smiled and she knew she had done something wrong and that this wouldn't be good for her. "You're right… CiCi."

She blanched. "You did not."

He nodded moving to the kitchen, knowing his daughter well enough to know that she was going to hurt him for that. "I did."

"Don't EVER call me that ever again!" she called as he disappeared into the kitchen to get away from the furry of her blue eyes.

"Too bad CiCi. It's your new nick-name, sweetheart," he said back.

"DADDY! STOP IT!" he could hear her coming to get him, could hear the smile in her voice. And he found a smile plastered to his face.

He could get used to this.

* * *

**So much fluff it makes me wanna puke! **

**Me: how bout you Cara?**

**Cara: *looking green and coming back from puking* What was that?**

**Me: *thundercloud* Nevermind.**

**Review the awesomeness that is Neal Caffrey's life?**


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